


Finding Some Kind of Normal

by CustardBattle



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, Chicken Rescue, F/M, Feelings, Game Grumps Big Bang 2017, Gen, M/M, Suzy is a badass with a sledgehammer, ggbb2017, mentions of vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 14:29:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11716293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CustardBattle/pseuds/CustardBattle
Summary: It's been two years since the outbreak. The Grumps are safe in an abandoned boarding school, where they've created a community for survivors. But the horrors of the outside world aren't easy to forget. This is a story of friendship, healing, and finding happiness wherever you are.





	1. The Barn

**Author's Note:**

> A very big thank you to the lovely Will for making art of my fic! Their tumblr is https://sperus-art.tumblr.com/  
> Check out their art: https://sperus-art.tumblr.com/private/163811510006/tumblr_ou6u9qd30j1vrnprt

It was almost two in the morning, but he was up when Suzy knocked gently on his dorm room door.

“I’m awake,” he croaked, exhausted, but completely wired, his fingers twitching without permission.

She stepped into his room, and pulled the chair out from under the desk, turning it around in the small space and sitting herself down. Dan got up, downing the cup of water by his bed, and slipping into socks, almost falling flat on his face in the darkness.

“You nervous?” she spoke quietly.

He pushed down the swarm of bees in his stomach. He was glad he hadn’t eaten anything.

“I feel like I’m going to barf.” He whispered back, because the walls were paper-thin. It seemed like a dick move to force anyone else up.

He could see her smile even in the dark of the room, and he opened the backpack as quietly as the zipper allowed. She pulled out her tiny wind-up lantern, which made him squint when she turned it on. Next she pulled out what looked like hockey pads, with a chest-plate made of fabric that covered the shoulders and biceps. When he slipped it on, he felt ridiculous.

“I feel like this is way too small,” he whispered, and she shrugged.

“It’s the closest we could find to your size. Besides, it’s not supposed to go all the way to your hips.” She passed him some gloves and soccer kneepads, and from the awkward way she moved he could tell she’d already put her armour on. She gave him a jersey, which read Greenway House Vipers on the front, with a cartoonish looking snake in red and gold.

Lastly, she handed him an axe, newly sharpened. It felt heavy and serious in his hands, and his heart raced when he ran his fingers along the blunt side of the blade.

She’d brought her sledgehammer with her, a testament to her strength. Dan had gotten tired just swinging it around in training, forget about taking it on a mission. He slung on the backpack, and sat on his bed to lace up his boots. It seemed like yesterday Arin had brought out a dummy made of cloth for Dan to face off with. Now they were going out beyond school property, and he felt close to panicking.

Suzy was calm and focused, like she’d done this enough that it didn’t make her blink. Dan tried not to be jealous. She pulled her hair back, twisting it into a circle and fastening it into a tight bun. She slipped the baseball cap on and pulled her hair through to make it stay.

“You should tie your hair up. It’s way too easy to grab.”

He had to admit she was right, and after transforming into his true man-bun self, they were ready.

They passed by her and Arin’s room on the way, and she went to knock on the door, only to have Arin open it for her.

“You’re awake,” she said, concern in her voice, making Arin shrug. He didn’t look happy, but neither would Dan if his wife was going off grounds.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he pulled her into a hug, and she pressed into him as much as the sledgehammer allowed. “Be safe. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she responded, and pulled back, looking at Dan, “we will be. We’ll be back in a matter of hours.”

To his surprise, Arin grabbed and hugged him, too, so hard he felt crushed through the armour.

“You better be safe, too. Do what she says, and don’t die.”

_I’ll try my best not to_ , he thought to himself.

“I promise not to,” is what he said instead.

The two left Arin to sleep, and walked down to the hallway, passing corkboards, trophy cases, and artwork done by students long gone. Even with Suzy’s lantern, the halls felt haunted, and the way the old staircase creaked and groaned didn’t exactly help.

Suzy dropped off her lantern at the front hallway, where Vernon sat on watch.

“Hey,” he said, barely above a whisper, “see you in a couple hours,” before going back to his book.

Dan tried his best not to panic as they made their way outside, walking to the front gates and pushing them open. He willed himself to take deep breaths when the big metal gates swung closed behind them, locking from the inside.

“Hey,” Suzy put her hand on his arm, and he caught her eye, “you’re going to be okay. This is a short mission.”

“Plus,” his voice didn’t crack, which was a win, “I have you to save me.”

“I’ve always wanted to be a shining knight,” she mused, and they set off.

They only used the road at night, and made sure they turned off their flashlights once they left the forest. The moon was full and bright, and once Suzy had made sure nothing was on the road in sight, she set out into a jog. It took them about half an hour to make it to the turn off, with Dan constantly turning around to check behind him. Nothing was ever there, but his neck never stopped tingling, and he never stopped stepping lightly, to minimize the sound they made on the pavement. The road turned to dirt, and the trees on either side grew thicker, and eventually they met the cattle-gate, which they hopped as quickly as possible.

They walked on, the vast field to both sides, and the shape of a huge farmhouse at the end of the road. The wind rustled the grass every so often, making Dan nearly jump out of his skin at the noise.

He did jump out of his skin when something stepped out of the grass to their left.

He tugged Suzy’s sleeve, and she spotted it too, the ugly, foul-smelling thing. It looked fresh, like it hadn’t been long since the turn, but half of its jaw was missing, leaving a clotted mess of black where the mouth would have been. The zombie just stumbled around, not even bothered by them, thanks to its incredibly poor eyesight. Thankfully, Suzy had insisted on going at night and, as they slowly crept by the swaying thing, Dan had to admit that had been a fantastic idea.

They saw another one standing in what probably used to be a garden, now overgrown and half-trampled. It just walked in circles around the garden, tripping over roots and weeds.

They went to the house first. The broken door hung useless from the hinges, and Suzy stepped inside first, letting Dan follow. He knew the drill; they had to stick together, checking the house in one go before looking for supplies. It didn’t take long, because the house only had one floor, but every room looked ransacked. The kitchen was bare, the knives gone from the block, the pantry cupboards left empty and open. A foul smell came from the fridge, and they moved right past it.

The rest of the house looked the same. Blankets, medication, soap, and first aid supplies had all been stripped, leaving the house bare. The pictures were still on the walls, dusty and forgotten, and Dan tried not to look at them, didn’t want to see a happy family that didn’t exist. In the end, they only took a couple things: a knife sharpener someone had missed, a can-opener, and a sports water-bottle from the kitchen, some facecloths from the bathroom, a dusty cowboy hat, as well as some work shirts still hanging in the closet. The shoes had been taken, but they found socks and underwear that they nicked, and an old burnt-out flashlight in the bedside table.

After that, they left the house in favour of the barn, whose old lock had long since rotted off. Sliding the huge wooden doors open, the two stepped in, trying not to cough at the dusty air.

Suzy seemed to know what she was doing, because after checking between tractors and mowers for zombies, she stopped at a big storage closet. Inside, along with pitchforks, old shovels, and rakes, was a huge metal safe, almost as high as his hip, and just as wide. It had a combination lock on it, and Dan turned to Suzy, who had dropped to her knees and was rifling through her backpack.

“What now?” He got his answer when she pulled out something he’d never seen before.

“What the hell is that?”

“A handheld blowtorch,” she responded, and fiddled with it, “burglars use them all the time to cut through household safes.”

She clicked the trigger, and grinned when a small flame burst out the top.

“You’re going to cut through the metal lock, and get access to the goods.”

She passed it over, and it felt heavy in his hands. He lit it like Suzy had done, and started his work. The heat hit his face, burning, but he focused the flame on the safe. With Suzy guarding him, he began to cut.

He held the torch steady, wishing he had better protection than his measly padding. His eyes were burning, and he had to blink the water out of them to keep his vision clear.

He broke off the first part of the lock, finally burning through the metal, but the door was still firmly shut. He tugged at it, frustrated when it didn’t budge.

“Shit.”

“What?” She turned to look at the job he’d done. “Right. Put the torch back in your bag, and take out the axe. Get ready.”

His heart picked up, doing as she said as fast as his shaking fingers let him.

“Why? What’s happening?” She lifted the sledgehammer, and Dan shot out of the way, giving her space.

“The torch can only cut through so much, but it’s damaged enough to just smash it open.”

“Isn’t that going to make a lot of noise?”

“That’s why I made you bring an axe.”

He swore under his breath, looking out. A lone zombie bumbled around by the field, but the grass grew tall and wild, hiding any number of them. She paused, and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing him hard enough that he felt it under his sweaty hockey pads.

“Hey, you can do this.” She picked up the heavy weight at the end, twiddling her fingers on the handle. “Just cover me, and if things get bad, we’ll get out by the back door.” She gestured to the exit by the far end of the barn. He shut his eyes and counted to three.

“Fine. I’m ready,” he stammered, “do it.”

She took the hammer and swung, coming down on the safe with a deafening bang. Dan tried not to jump at the noise, focusing on the axe in his hands and the space outdoors. The lone zombie twisted its head in their direction, letting out a snarl before stumbling towards them like a terrifying drunk toddler. Another one appeared from the field, pushing the cornstalks out of the way with two broken, droopy arms. They entered the barn, picking up speed at they walked the length of the space.

They would have been hilarious if they weren’t so terrifying, but they were spaced out, and that was good enough for him. Dan kicked the closest one with as much force as he could muster, watching it topple to the ground. Taking his chance, he swung the axe, catching the thing right in the neck.

It took a couple hacks, but he ignored the hands gripping his legs over the fabric and didn’t stop until the head separated from the body. He took a sharp breath through his nose when the stench hit him, and clenched his mouth shut. He already had blood on him, black and horrible and starting to congeal.

He didn’t have time to dwell on how disgusting it was, and made himself busy by throwing himself at the next one. He caught it right at the junction between neck and shoulder, and panicked briefly when he tried and failed to tug the blade out. The thing kept coming after him, not at all worried about the axe caught in its body, or even its lack of arms. He pushed it back, turning to grab the next available thing remotely weapon-shaped.

“You okay back there?” came Suzy’s voice in between swings. She sounded breathless from the work, but kept up the pace, only stopping when sweat made her hands slip around the handle. Dan stepped back, leaving space to breathe. He found a broken two-by-four and swung as hard as he could, glad he had the thick gloves on. The noise was satisfying, and stunned the zombie enough to give him space for another swing, not quite caving the skull, but damaging it enough that it went down. After that, he was free to respond.

“I’m alright. Panicking, but alright.”

He battered the head, biting his tongue in an effort not to puke when the brains spilled out onto the dirt floor. The body limp, he placed a boot chest center and pulled the axe from the corpse.

There were three more zombies stumbling towards their position. He held his ground, preferring to stay close to Suzy while she did her work inside the closet. For the next one (who looked like he’d once been a farmer, poor guy), he had a strategy. He used his long legs to his advantage, kicking it from a distance before bashing the skull with the blunt edge. His lungs were burning, and he felt overheated, but he was getting through them, so it barely mattered.

“I’m almost done.” Called Suzy. Dan ran at the last two, this time breaking one of their knees and coming down on the crown (he’d officially decided that the sharp end was overrated, and he didn’t want to find himself stuck with the next one so close), and then taking a swing at the other.

He’d never considered himself a violent guy, but this was exhilarating. He looked down at the bodies, his chest heaving. The coast was clear save for one more zombie, but far off. He turned around to Suzy, who was prying off the battered door, letting it fall to the ground.

“Do you know what’s in there?”

She leaned over, peeking inside with a flashlight.

“Aw, score!” Dan had to look away, because another monster had made its way into the shed, followed by three others, “seeds, tools, oh look! New shovels! And fertilizer.”

“We came all this way for fertilizer?” He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, or throw up, but Suzy was still smiling.

“We’re gonna have to double our garden, man.” Her tone had turned serious, even as she reached back into the stash, pulling out packages of seed, and stuffing them into the backpack by her feet. She checked her watch, unfazed even as Dan battered another skull in. “I don’t know if you’ve seen the pantry lately. It doesn’t look good.”

He’d only been at the school for a couple of weeks, but Arin and Suzy had arrived in June, right at the start of the outbreak. Back then, food was everywhere, with a wealth of cans to sustain them. Now, they all had cut down on canned food, choosing to eat out of the garden instead.

“What’ll we do in the winter?” He finished off the final one, feeling exhaustion set in. His arms were too thin to keep this up, and his shoulder burned in its socket. He just wanted to go home, now that they had gardening supplies.

He didn’t get a response, because a noise caught her attention. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening, and Dan turned around. His breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t the one or two undead like he’d imagined. Dozens of them had clustered together, stepping from the fields and following the noise. In a matter of seconds they blocked the exit, and after helping Suzy clear out the safe, they ran to the far door. Dan threw up the latch and went inside, shutting the door with a bang and bolting it from the inside.

His eyes adjusted, and Suzy’s light flew around the room, following the hay covered floor, and what looked like empty feeders. He breathed in the thick smell of animal, and when something moved beside his foot, he nearly had a heart attack, only to realize it was a chicken, coming up to peck his boots.

They shared a look when the door behind them gave a shove, moaning coming through the space between boards. The door heaved, but stayed shut, making an ominous creaking noise as the wood bent from the other side.

“There’s the door,” Suzy’s voice cut through the awful noise, and Dan followed her. She unlatched the other side, pushing on the wood.

It didn’t move.

“Shit,” she muttered, and Dan looked back at the door, which had started to crack, “I think it’s barred from the other side.”

“Oh god,” was all he said, but he remembered the axe in his hands. He locked eyes with her, and the adrenaline in his body made his mind go clear, flooding the fear from his mind. “Help me break down the door,” he told her, and she held her hammer at the ready. “When we break it down, they’ll be on this side too, but push them back.”

“You keep them off my back, and I’ll create a path,” she suggested, and they both nodded.

“One, two,” Dan readjusted his grip, time seeming to slow down, “three!”

The doors flew open on their first swing, the momentum stopping any chance he had at cutting into the wood.

Dan barely stopped himself from cutting down the first thing he saw. To his surprise, three guys, alive and well, were on the other side.

“You’re alive?” Suzy asked.

“You’re alive?” one of the guys asked, equally bewildered.

They moved, taking a stance against the horde. The door broke, letting the monsters in from behind, and they were swarmed from the front.

There was a short older fellow, who had fire in his eyes. He had nothing but a crowbar in his hands, but lunged at the zombies at every opportunity. The second, a skinny guy, had a machete. He jumped to the older man’s side.

The other guy, a stocky man with a short dark beard, shook in his boots. The weapon in his hands remained up, and the horde advanced. One tall zombie staggered towards him, but he didn’t move.

The guy froze, his eyes wide, as the thing clutched him with rotting fingers. He was jerked forwards, and Dan watched as he let himself be pulled into the horde.

He was freezing up.

A jaw snapped towards him. Yellowed teeth and a blackened mouth came close, before being obliterated by Suzy’s hammer, splattering the man with debris. She yanked him back, aiming another hit at the one who’d grasped him by the arm, breaking the limb from the shoulder. He recovered from his freeze, and sucked in a breath, scrambling from the zombies and taking shelter behind the crazy hammer woman.

“We’re gonna need to make a path,” came the light haired guy’s voice, “hammer girl, you push forward, axe man, you and I got her back.”

Suzy yelled a noise of affirmation, and they got into position. The older man gripped the first guy by the hand and dragged him to the center, leaving Dan and the skinny guy to take the back.

The horde was pressing in on all sides. They were surrounded by groaning creatures, their flailing, rotting hands grasped at them. They never stopped, not even when their limbs were broken and mangled, or chopped off completely, leaving only a bloodied stump. They were slow, and persistent, and unlike the survivors, who wheezed and panted, they never tired. Dan’s heart pumped hard, and the painful, panicked feeling in his chest told him he couldn’t keep it up for long. Horrible, disgusting dead were around him as far as he could see, so he held his ground and swung as hard as he could.

The guy beside him was tiring, much faster than Dan had tired, and the way he swung around the machete was sloppy and ineffective. Dan didn’t have the breath to tell him, and the way things were going, he didn’t know if it really mattered. He had a grit to him that told Dan the man would fight to the last breath.

“Let’s make a break for it!”

Dan closed his eyes and turned, unsure if he’d ever heard a better phrase in his life. Behind him, Suzy had cleared a path, and he dashed towards it before it had a chance to close. The guy beside him jumped, and followed him in an instant.

An arm gripped him by the back of his shirt, just as he passed the end, but he kept running, gripping the strap of his pack so it stayed with him. He heard a ripping sound, as well as a growl, before the danger disappeared behind them.

They followed Suzy all the way to the cow-gate, slowing into a jog. A couple of stragglers snarled and followed them, but went the wrong direction, courtesy of their poor sight.

Dan leaned on the gate, his hands hot against the metal. The light haired guy fared much worse, and heaved up his dinner at his feet, making Dan press his mouth into a thin line.

Suzy’s hair that escaped her hat had plastered itself to her forehead, but she looked three times better than the rest of them, being used to fighting for this long.

“Who are you?” She asked between pants. The skinny guy had finished emptying his stomach, turning towards her, wiping his mouth.

“Travellers,” said the guy, “I’m Ross. This is Brian,” he pointed towards the older guy, who looked deeply unhappy.

“I’m Barry,” said the bearded guy who’d frozen up before. He was still pale white, and Dan didn’t blame him.

“You were the ones who opened the door?”

“We heard talking,” said Barry.

“It wasn’t my vote,” muttered Ross, “you could hear the horde from a mile away, there were so many of them.”

“Brian opened the door in the end, without consulting us, I may add.”

Brian just rolled his eyes and gave Barry the middle finger.

“Thank you for saving us,” Suzy had a look of sincerity on her face, visible even through the blood, “we were in a thick spot.” Brian just stared at her, not responding.

“He doesn’t say much,” shrugged Ross.

“Good to know,” she turned from them, throwing a leg up onto the metal.

She and Dan hopped over the fence, motioning for the three men to follow. They shared a look, but once Barry took a look at the farmhouse and the wandering dead, he followed.

“I should be thanking you. I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry.”

The three men followed, and Dan tried to put a hand on the man’s shoulder, stopping only when he flinched away.

“Sorry,” said Barry, “still jumpy, I guess.”

“No problem,” said Dan, concealing his concern with a smile. “I’m Dan. And that amazing hammer lady’s name is Suzy. We found a safe house to live in, if you’d like to stay.”

The trip home was harder than usual. Ross’ face drained pale on the walk over, and even with Barry’s support, his pace was slow and laboured. Dan knew Suzy had the same concerns they did, but neither spoke them out loud, knowing that Arin would know what to do when they got back. Also, the horde was still passing. While they had dealt with the majority of it back at the farm, they stood on alert the entire trip home.

Arin didn’t look happy to be up at such a late hour, but he stood in his pajamas beside Vernon and Mark all the same.

“Who’re you?” He said, a little grumpy. He crossed his thick arms over his chest, and looked them the up and over.

“Heroes,” said Dan, bluntly.

“They saved our asses.”

“This is Brian and Ross,” he gestured over to the man, who looked like he’d rather be collapsing on the floor. “I’m Barry.”

“I’m Mark,” said Mark, the least bothered by the time, and was the first to shake his hands. “Welcome to Greenway House. We have some rooms upstairs once you wash off.”

“We can stay here?” Ross mumbled, and Vernon smiled.

“Yeah. I used to run the place, so that gives me the power. I’m Vernon.”

Vernon shook his hand, feeling a spark of concern when he felt it was clammy and cold.

Ross, closed his eyes. He stepped back and said, “I’m sorry,” before starting to puke on the shiny floorboards.

“Oh, awesome.” Arin said, with what was probably supposed to be a laugh, but Dan could sense some strain in it. He stepped away from the splash zone, pushing down the rising nausea at the back of his throat.

After Ross’ contribution to the floor, Arin took him by the hand and pulled him into the first floor toilets, pushing him into a stall before he could hurl again. Arin lifted his feet off the grey tiles, sitting himself between the sinks. He leaned against the mirror, feeling the cold seep through his thin pink t-shirt.

He felt a twinge of sympathy as Ross dropped to his knees close to the toilet, not ready to purge quite yet, but sweating and shivering in anticipation. His breath came in thick pants, reverberating off of the bathroom walls.

“So,” came Arin’s voice, and he cleared it when it shook, “feel free to throw up and all, but you’re gonna have to strip.”

After Ross’ second round of throwing up, he turned to look at Arin, incredulous even with bile dripping from his bottom lip.

Arin started counting on his fingers, his forehead knitting together.

“You come here just after passing through a horde, we don’t know you, you obviously have a fever, and you’re throwing up.”

“I wasn’t bitten,” the younger man muttered into the bowl, choking on a gag, and Arin shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’d believe you if I knew you, but I don’t. Now puke away, then strip, even your panties, and I want you to wash all the blood off, too, so we can be sure. If you’re clean, and we know you’re clean, you can stay.”

Ross looked up from his space and caught Arin’s gaze.

“And if I’m not?”

Arin didn’t break his stare.

“Then we’ll let you choose how to end it.”

To his surprise, Ross nodded, like this was the answer he wanted to hear.

“I respect that,” he held back another retch, “but you won’t find anything.”

“Good,” replied Arin, and he leaned back against the mirror.

“You done?” he called, once fifteen minutes had passed, leaving Ross hunched over, resting his forehead on the porcelain seat.

“For now,” he croaked back, and lifted his head, exhausted. He wiped his mouth on some toilet paper and chucked it into the bowl, flushing. “How does your water still work?”

Arin gave him a hand as he rose, his legs shaky and stiff. “The building gets it from a well. We have no electricity or gas, though, so your shower’s gonna be fun.”

Ross managed to walk across campus, lead by Arin and his lantern to the showers on the second floor dorms. He set the lantern down by the sinks and gestured to the stalls.

“Just put your clothes in a pile on the floor, they’re toast anyway.”

Ross peeled off his shirt with trembling fingers. He didn’t meet Arin’s eye, but said, “I bet this is all an elaborate ruse to get me naked.”

Arin laughed, “you caught me.” There was a silence, before Ross turned the water on, cursing.

“Fuck, it’s cold!”

“Yeah, just go quick. There’s soap on the ledge. Make sure to get all the blood off, I want to check out that cut on your side.”

“God, you’re pushy,” muttered Ross, and let out a high-pitched whine when he jumped into the spray.


	2. The Office

While Arin deemed Ross clean and unbitten, Barry and Brian got sent to their dorm rooms. Mark led them down the hall, not seeming to care that neither men responded.

“There’s Dan’s room, right next to Arin and Suzy’s. These dorms are way nicer cuz the school refurbished them in the early 2000s. Back in the day, when I taught, I was a science teacher, right? Back then there were almost two-hundred boys living in residence. Being on night-duty was a nightmare, and the amount of pranks I had to deal with would probably make you laugh.” Neither men looked ready to smile.

“Anyways. There’s two rooms right here. They’re nice, on the East side, get to watch the sunrise in the morning, that sort of thing. One more thing:” he reached into the back pocket of his faded jeans, rummaging around. “Here’s a key for each of you. It’s to your room, so don’t lose it. Everything valuable is locked up. Not that I think you’re going to steal, but there’s no point just in case you were considering it.”

Barry shared a glance with Brian. This guy was like an energetic puppy, but he seemed nice enough.

“And those keys won’t get you in and out of the building, so just ask me if you want to go somewhere.”

He looked off somewhere to recall the last few items.

“Oh! And breakfast is at 7:30. We usually get someone to knock on the doors at 7:00 for wake-up. You don’t have to come, but the next meal is at 12:00, so I wouldn’t suggest waiting.”

He looked pleased with himself, and gestured to the doors.

“That’s everything, for now. Vernon’s on watch, so get him if you need something, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Goodnight!”

He sauntered of down the hallway, turning the corner and disappearing. Brian and Barry shared a silent glance, but then turned to their rooms.

                The next morning, Barry woke with a start to a knock on the door, making him jump out of his skin. His heart pounded and he looked around in a panic until he remembered where he was. He forced his body to relax, trying to let the anxiety flow out through deep breaths.

He didn’t particularly want to get out of bed. He still felt exhausted, his entire body sore from running and fighting last night. His backpack and clothes were thrown in a pile on the floor. And he couldn’t help but keep running the happenings from last night. Jesus, he’d almost died. He’d frozen up in fear and almost gotten himself killed.

He could still smell death, that pungent stink that clung to everything, and he thought about that moment when the zombie grabbed for him, baring those gnashing teeth.

The memory gripped his heart in an icy panic, and he spent the next several minutes focusing on his breathing. He tried to remind himself he was on the soft bed (a bed!), and the way the sunlight poured through his dark blue curtains.

He hadn’t gotten a very good look at the room last night, but now that the sun had rose, he saw a tiny wooden desk over in the corner, right next to a thin little wardrobe. Other than the bed and a garbage can, the room was bare. He had just enough room to walk between the bed and the desk, where an ancient looking wooden chair was tucked under.

He thought back to the last time he’d slept in a bed. Two months ago, wasn’t it? When he’d just met Ross and stuck with him once he’d learned how quick he was. They’d found an apartment that hadn’t had the sheets stripped, barely had anything taken, and they’d both relished the luxury of having something soft to sleep on.

But he was hungry. His stomach was sour after three days with no food, and considering how well fed that Arin guy had looked, these survivors probably didn’t skimp much on meals.

His backpack had been filled with just necessities. However, he’d packed away an extra shirt and some half-clean underwear, so he pulled those on, too. He didn’t particularly feel like putting on his pair of bloodied cargo pants, but there was no other option. He zipped up his bag, before hiding a can of soup, his cigarettes, and his army knife behind the closet. These people had been more than kind to him, but he hadn’t survived this long by being trusting.

He poked his head out of the door, seeing an empty hallway, then locking the door behind him. He pocketed the heavy key. They probably had spares, so he vowed to check back again after breakfast, knowing his stuff wasn’t secure.

“Hey. Barry, is it?”

He jumped straight up into the air, and turned, only to find the woman from last night.

“Yeah.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She looked like a different person now. Her combat boots and armour had been replaced by thick eyeliner and a dark blue summer dress, and he felt his cheeks heat a little when she smiled at him. She had a sleeve full of tattoos on one of her muscular arms, but something about her made Barry consider her sweet rather than frightening.

“No, no. It’s okay. Suzy?”

“Yeah, that’s me. We’re just about to have breakfast. Want me to show you to the cafeteria?”

He nodded, and they set off. Mark had mentioned last night this building had housed hundreds of students, but she looked a little older, maybe in her late twenties?

“Were you a teacher at this place?”

“No. My husband, Arin, taught art, but I never worked here. When the outbreak started, I was just going to pick him up for summer vacation. As it turned out, this place is much safer than the outside, so we just never left.”

“Is it really safe here?”

He’d heard of strongholds and safe houses, but most were prey to raids by groups desperate for supplies. The woman shrugged as they followed the hallway to the stairs.

“It depends on what you consider safe. Our fence keeps out any zombies, but you can’t be out in the yard alone, just in case the chain breaks. Also, we keep watch for any raiders at all times, but it doesn’t mean we’re not still vulnerable.”

They passed the shiny halls. The floorboards had worn down to a brownish yellow where the majority of the traffic had passed through. There were pictures of classes and athletes still on the walls, and classrooms with polished oak doors, adorned with brassen room numbers. This place looked expensive and hallowed, and Barry couldn’t help feeling out of place, especially in old, dirty jeans.

She pushed open another door down the hallway, where it opened to a huge meal-room, complete with the closed-off kitchen area. He could smell something cooking, made with onions and garlic, and his stomach gurgled.

Suzy sat in the middle of the room, where her husband and Mark had taken. She gestured for Barry to follow her, so he chose the seat beside her. The plastic tables and cheap seats looked out of place, especially with what looked like a gigantic fireplace and chimney at the far end of the hall.

“Hey, new guy,” said Arin, “you’re probably starving.”

“I’m three minutes from dying from hunger.”

“I think breakfast’s in four minutes. Tough luck.”

“Oh well,” he shrugged, “I lived a good life.”

“What’s your name again?” asked Mark, who fidgeted with a fork as he spoke.

“Barry.”

“Nice to see you up, man.” Arin pushed up once Vernon came out of the kitchen holding a big metal tray in some oven mitts. “Yes! What’cha got for us, Pepper boy?”

The smell was heavenly. Vernon put the dish down on some corkboards, and Suzy stood up to go grab a plate. It looked like some kind of casserole, a mix of chopped tomatoes, potatoes, onions, and an assortment of vegetables he couldn’t name, and of course, peppers. He’d never been the healthiest eater before the apocalypse, but his mouth was already watering, and dashed after Suzy to grab his utensils.

Vernon scooped out liberal amounts, while Arin poured everyone glasses of water. By the time he’d started to dig in, everyone had appeared, save Brian and Ross.

“They’re probably sleeping in,” said Dan, when Barry asked where they were. “I wanted to sleep in, too, but I’ve got dish duty.”

“Yeah, about that,” Mark butted in, “you’re more than welcome to stay here if you want. We’re safe here, and we have food and clothes if you need them. We all took a vote this morning. All three of you can live here. You just have to do chores with us.”

Barry didn’t know what to say. His strategy kept him always moving, and never letting himself settle down for too long. It kept him fit, it kept him fed, and it kept him alive. But this was a fenced-off prison of a boarding school, tucked in the middle of nowhere. If anyplace could be safe, this would be it.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Suzy said, giving him a supportive smile, “but we want you to know you can stay if you want.”

“As long as you do your fair share of chores,” said Dan, his voice dry.

“I do not skimp on chores, Daniel,” Mark’s voice was defensive, but Arin just laughed.

“You fell asleep in the laundry room,” he pointed out, and Mark rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, guys. That was one time.”

“Plus,” added Vernon, “those blankets are pretty comfortable after nightwatch.”

Barry decided he would give his answer after a couple days, but his mind was already set. If this place was like they said, it was the best place to be.

“And besides, if anyone skips chores, it’s Dan.”

“Hey! I do not!”

He also liked the people, which was a huge plus.

Arin liked the watch, and he didn’t mind taking the longer shifts. It gave him a chance to decompress, and the silence cleared his mind. Most of the time, he set down his lantern by the desk and picked up the books he found in the library, taking every couple of seconds to look out the window and into the front gate.

He started when he heard screaming, but relaxed. It wasn’t coming from outside, but upstairs. This wasn’t the first time one of them had woken the entire building with a nightmare, and it wouldn’t be the last. He just waited for it to stop, going back to his book.

He started a whole nother time when he heard the office door creak open behind him twenty minutes later.

“Well I’m glad you’re not here to chomp me,” he said once he regained himself. He pointed to the desk, and Barry, looking like he might run away any second, sat down. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Something like that.

“Don’t worry. I rarely sleep through the night, either,” he admitted, “people here’re used to it.”

“What do you do?”

He didn’t want to meet Arin’s eyes, so he got himself acquainted with the office supplies lining the far wall of the space. Dust covered the binders and trinkets on the upper shelves, but the bottom had been cleared out, replaced with a wind-up radio, an extra flashlight, as well as a dwindling supply of batteries. The books spanned everything from textbooks to guides on working with disabled students, most with well-worn covers.

“What?” This time, he had enough courage to look at Arin, saw his tired eyes, the same dark rings that Barry had from sleepless nights, and he felt the hiding, guilty part of him untwist.

“The ni-“ he paused, wiping the dust from his hands, “the not sleeping, I mean, what do you do?”

“Well,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I draw.”

This wasn’t the answer Barry had expected, but wasn’t entirely surprising. He’d heard Arin had taught art.

“Oh cool. What do you draw?”

“It’s mostly cute girls, honestly.” Barry couldn’t help but smile.

“I can get on the cute girl train.”

“Good, because I have like, fifteen sketchbooks just filled with cute girls.”

“Fifteen?” Arin nodded, leaning back in his chair.

“There were three things that were well stocked when we arrived; the broom closet, the wood shop because Mark had lost the keys, and the art room.” He suddenly jumped up, startling Barry, and moved to the door, turning back to show his huge grin.

“Keep watch for a sec, will ya?”

He shot out the door before Barry could respond.

“Uh, okay,” he said to the empty room, and took Arin’s chair, letting it roll to the desk.

A sketched-out map of the grounds lay on the top, as well as a couple shitty industrial pens. Humming, his gaze settled on a couple of drawers to his right, left slightly open. He risked a glance to the door, but Arin was long gone, so he pulled it open, careful not to knock his knee. The contents weren’t too exciting, just some extra pencils, a couple paperclips, and a dog-eared copy of _Trauma and School: How to Facilitate Healing and Learning in Children_. Barry opened it to a random page, skimming over highlighted paragraphs, and annotated pages, until he stopped, and looked at a passage someone had underlined.

_A useful exercise to share with the child is to let them personify their feelings. As an example, despair can be a friend, or an enemy. Despair is a being that clings to you, devours you if you let it. Explain to the child that despair can show up and visit, but that after a time, they must tell despair to leave. As an activity, write a letter with the child to despair, explaining…_

Barry put the book back in the drawer. It was obviously Arin’s, and he wondered whether asking advice from someone who believed in this crap had really been the best course of action. Regardless, Arin burst into the office five minutes later, beet-red, breathless, and completely crazed. He held out his arm, which held a book covered in plastic.

“Here’s some pens, and a pencil, even though you can find them everywhere. And this,” he tore some wrapping off, and thrust it into Barry’s face. “Is a brand new sketchbook.”

It was a standard sketchbook, one they’d give to freshmen taking art, but it didn’t matter. Barry took it from Arin, finding his crazed smile infectious.

“Are you sure I can have it?” Arin stopped to think at this question

“Now that you mention it, I think we should wake up Mark and have a vote.”

It took Arin a second to realize Barry was kidding, given away by the slight snort he let out.

“Woah, shots fired.” Barry giggled. He moved the lantern closer and popped open the cap of a fountain pen, stopping just short of the paper. The two had completely abandoned the pretense of keeping watch.

“As a new artist, what should my first masterpiece be?”

“I don’t know,” Arin shrugged, “whatever you want, I guess. Here, draw me.” He made a pose, and Barry snickered, already tracing the line of Arin’s face.

“Oh my god, if you think this is going to be flattering, you are sorely mistaken.”

Barry’s sketchbook didn’t last long, even if Arin loved flipping through the couple pages he did, and he and Ross fought over who got to watch him draw, giving pointers every so often, and laughing when he changed their portraits.

(“Why’d you give me heart cheeks?”

Barry shrugged, “I thought they’d make you look cute.”

Arin pretended to be offended, “how dare you imply I wasn’t already cute.”

“I’m not talking about Arin cute.” He leaned in closer, giving his voice a dramatic flair, “I’m talking about maximum cute.”)

And things just seemed better. Sure, Ross was still sick, but he’d sweat out the majority of the fever, and seemed to be on the mend. Brian ignored them all, only coming out for mealtimes, and sometimes not even coming out at all. But Barry and Arin became fast friends, Arin happy to have an excuse to pause his chores and show him around. He was strong and reasonable, with a slight cheekiness to him that Arin appreciated. Plus, he knew how to chop wood, and that was an added bonus.

So when Arin stumbled from his room, sweaty and shaking, he went right to the office, where he knew he’d be on duty.

He hesitated just before pushing open the door, considering turning away. A gentle strumming stopped him, though, and he stepped inside, curious. There was Barry, hunched around a music book lit under the office lantern. He held a little ukulele in his hands, and kept playing, filling the room with the gentle sound.

“You play ukulele?” Arin pulled up a chair, sitting next to Barry.

“I used to.”

He winced when he flubbed a chord, “case in point.” He looked up, and turned around, suddenly uncomfortable, “am I making too much noise?”

“No,” Arin put his hands up, “keep going. It’s nice. What are you trying to play?”

Barry nudged the music closer to him. The yellowed page looked about a thousand years old.

“Jesus Loves Me.”

Arin whistled, “Wow. Don’t rock out too hard.”

Barry let out a little whoop.

“It’s too bad they don’t have electric ukuleles. I’d take the world by storm.”

“I think electric ukuleles exist, actually.”

“Really?”

“I mean it’s just a tiny guitar, so it’d be the same as an electric guitar, just smaller. I think.”

“I’d need a hardcore name, though. Like Firestrings.”

Arin laughed, “Oh man, that’s perfect. And you could singlehandedly take the ukulele back from indie girls on tumblr.”


	3. The Road

As Arin had previously told Barry, people woke up in the middle of the night after nightmares often. It happened. It happened to him often, and sleeping through the night was a gift. Suzy rarely woke up unless he did, so when he felt her sit up in the middle of the night, he knew something was wrong.

“What’s going on?” His voice sounded slurred to his ears.

She was sitting on the side of the bed, her back to him. He sat up.

She didn’t answer right away, but after a moment, she turned her head, giving him a look in the dark. He saw the way her lips were pressed together. He saw her tired eyes, the stress in her brow.

“Nothing, babe. Go back to sleep.”

He looked at her long hair, tangled and hanging down her back. She turned away again, and he knew he wasn’t going back to sleep. He reached out his hand and grabbed hers.

“That did literally nothing to quell my concerns.”

She sighed, her shoulders deflating a little as she leaned forwards. He tugged her hand, and she followed, bringing her legs back on the bed and leaning back until she had pressed her back up against him. He pressed his nose into the crook of her neck and held her tight.

“I had a dream that Matt and Ryan came back.”

He felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, and gave her a squeeze.

“Suzy.”

“And then I woke up, and poof,” her voice cracked, but she held it together, “they were gone again.”

“They’ll come back,” he told her, knowing full well he could be wrong, “I know it’s been two months, but they’ll come back.”

“I miss them, so, so, much.”

“It’s stupid, because we’re barely ten years older, but,” he paused, almost embarrassed to say it. But she was his wife. He couldn’t hold feelings back from her. “I feel like I lost two sons.”

She folded in on herself, and only then did she start crying, small little sobs that just shook him further.

“They were so young,” she choked out, her small frame shaking, “They were so young and it’s so shitty and unfair.”

They held each other until they stopped crying, both falling asleep feeling empty and drained.

                No one could see the horde passing through from inside the fence, and so it was on Arin and Mark to check whether going outside the walls was a good idea or not. Besides, it was berry season, and while the strawberries they’d planted in their garden were delicious and sweet, they were also small. Blackberries grew by the side of the road in droves here. The road may have been dangerous for attracting unsavoury characters from the road, who’d until previously thought this area was uninhabited, but the berries were sweet and delicious and plentiful.

So yeah, Arin saw the merit in going outside. He just wished it wasn’t him. He felt depressed and tired from the night before, and Mark jumping around, making far too much noise didn’t help at all.

“Any zombies ready for a munchy?” he called, looking at Arin and noticing his grim expression. He just seemed to find it funnier, and kept up the general loudness.

“Let’s not attract too much attention,” said Arin, pulling up the straps on his backpack. “Even if the horde is gone.”

Mark nodded, but continued anyway, jabbering on. His axe was poised on his shoulder, at the ready, and he felt his anger rise.

“Woah!” he exclaimed as they left the forest, stepping onto the dry, dusty road, “we’ve got our very own admirers right here!”

Arin watched humorlessly as Mark evaded the zombie’s lunge, giving a powerful bash to the head.

“So sorry about that. You won’t be eating me today, zamzam.” He moved onto the other, dancing around the shambling thing, before hacking at the neck from behind.

“I do love a good bit of blood in the morning,” he sighed, and they continued down the road, Mark hoisting the weapon back on his shoulder.

“Damn, those zombies are so easy to kill, it’s a wonder how anyone died.”

“Shut the fuck up, okay?” It came out super harsh, far more than he’d intended, and felt himself wilt at Mark’s surprised face.

“I’m sorry, man,” he felt his face go a little red, “I’m tired and grumpy.”

“It’s okay. I’ll quiet down,” promised Mark. “Let’s go see how the berries are.”

The berries would have to wait. Arin looked down the road, squinting in the sun. There was another zombie shuffling towards them, and he patted Mark’s arm, pointing.

They walked towards the thing, but the zombie didn’t rush them when they came into view. Instead, it stopped in its tracks, a look of fear coming over its face. Arin gasped, suddenly grateful Mark had an axe. It wasn’t a zombie; it was a woman.

She was dirty, her hair pasted to her forehead with sweat. Her skin was bright red, and she was walking like her left leg had been injured. She carried a branch as thick as her arm and just a little longer, slung over her shoulder. But she wasn’t wearing shoes, only some boxers and a thin t-shirt. She looked close to collapsing, like she’d been walking for far too long.

“Jesus,” said Mark, who jogged up next to her, “are you okay?”

“Step back,” she bared her teeth and held the log at the ready, aggressive, but her stance was weak and her eyes looked tired. Arin scooched closer to the two, putting up his hands.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re not here to hurt you.” He tried to be as soothing as possible, but it was hard when your partner was holding a bloody axe.

“Yeah. I’m Mark. What’s your name?” She didn’t put the stick down, even when he put the axe in his backpack.

“Holly.”

“Hey, Holly. What happened? Where are your shoes?”

This time she lowered the stick, and her voice started trembling.

“Sam and I, we were robbed, they just came out of nowhere and-” she cut off like she couldn’t speak the last words, but she shook her head, and her grip on the stick tightened, “they killed him. Oh god, and they almost killed me too.”

She dropped the stick, shaking, and Arin and Mark shared a glance, thinking the same thing.

“Our home isn’t too far from here,” Mark said, daring to come closer, “we have food, water, and some clothes.”

She eyes them warily, and said nothing.

“Here,” began Arin, dropping his pack to the ground and unzipping it. “We have a bottle of water.”

He passed it to her, and she drank the water greedily, stopping just before the point of making herself sick.

“Do you have any food?” She looked hopeful.

“Uh, I think there’s some zucchini slices. They might be warm, but here you go.”

“Thank you.” she munched on a slice and closed her eyes at the taste, “this is fresh.”

“Yeah. I grew them in the garden,” Mark was incredibly proud of this, and that perked her up, “you can come check it out. You don’t have to stay, but just maybe get a pair of shoes.”

Arin nodded, “also maybe a hat? That looks like a wicked sunburn.” Blisters were forming on her shoulders, and her face had just started to peel. She hesitated, but seemed to realize she didn’t have a choice. With nowhere else to go, she nodded.

They led the way, Holly following behind, not willing to turn her back on them yet. They hadn’t gone far, and the overgrown turn-off appeared.

“Greenway House, School for Boys?” she said. The sign was now behind wild bushes and tall grass, only coming into sight when she stood close.

“Yeah. That’s us, the Greenway House Vipers: Democratic Republic of Zombieland.” Mark pulled out a ring of keys, and he jingled them in his hands as they walked down the path. Trees grew tall around them, and the path took a couple turns. Soon, a huge stone wall appeared, with huge metal gates at the center, a rusty crest adorning the bars.

The door made a banging sound when he stuck the key in the lock, but she didn’t see a single zombie around. He held the gate open, and Arin slipped inside, turning to her.

“You coming?”

She nodded. She didn’t have any other options.

Her stomach twisted in anticipation for the two men to turn on her, but they never did, and it was making her crazy. She eyed the guy Arin’s backpack as they approached the building, wondering if he had any more vegetables. She hadn’t eaten in a day or so, and the zucchini just made her hungrier.

When they unlocked and entered the building, there was a woman in the hallway, and she just looked at them, confused.

“Welcome back, I guess.”

“Hey Suzy,” greeted Mark, “this is Holly.”

“Hey.” Suzy gave her a wave, and Holly just nodded. She’d put her stick back on her shoulder, and was determined to hold onto it as long as possible.

“What time is it?” asked Arin.

“Almost lunch.”

Holly’s stomach took immediate interest.

“Perfect,” he said, “Suze, could you get her set up in a room, maybe show her the showers, and a pair of shoes?”

Suzy gestured to the other woman, “of course.”

The walked up the stairs, noting the desperate way the woman clutched her branch.

“We don’t have any hot water, but our showers work. There’s soap and towels, and everything.”

The showers were at the end of the hall, lit only by a frosted window at one end. But Suzy pulled back a curtain, and sure enough, there was a little bar of soap and a bottle of strawberry shampoo.

“We usually wash our hair with the bar soap too, to conserve shampoo,” she turned the spray on and stepped back, “but you’re welcome to use it.”

She turned around, and stood by the door, obviously keeping guard. Holly kept her stick, but peeled off her shirt and shorts, keeping an eye on Suzy. The woman didn’t move, so she backed into the shower, laying the branch at the bottom, and moving the curtain so she could see out into the hallway.

She was used to cold showers, and washed automatically, running soap through her hair and scrubbing the grime away. Plus, the cold soothed the burns on her arms and the back of her neck. The woman stayed at the door, her back turned, only moving when Holly turned off the spray. She came back with two grey towels, which Holly took.

“Thank you,” she said. She dried her hair behind the curtain, coming out wrapped in the towels, holding her trusty stick. Her skin was burning, and hot to the touch even after the shower, and she knew she had a serious case of resting bitch face. Suzy didn’t mention it, just picked the dirty clothes up and turned.

“Mark should have your keys by now. Ready to see your new room?”

                She was only in her room for long enough to change into some borrowed clothes (with shoes included, of course). Mark handed her the key just after, and the three of them started for the cafeteria. She kept her distance behind the two as she walked, and couldn’t help feeling a little helpless as the two babbled on. Their laughter echoed off the walls all the way to the entrance to the dining hall, Holly only half-listening. She scratched at her shoulder, instantly regretting it, her burns stinging like hell.

“And I was egging him on, trying to get him to bet more, and for the majority of the game he plays it safe. But just before we decide to end, he starts listening to me, and betting more and more, like, the stupidest bets ever.”

“Did he lose all his money?”

“No! Because people saw him play it safe the whole time, they never called his bluff. Finally Vernon got a trip king, and Ryan actually managed to convince him to fold, right after Ryan went all in.”

“What did he have?”

“Like, a three and a jack,” laughed Mark.

“That’s so bad! Oh my god.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised Vernon didn’t strangle him, but to everyone else it was the funniest thing ever.”

“Must’ve been. What did he lose?”

“He just has to do some extra chores, nothing major.”

“Still, your ego’s bound to be bruised after that.”

“I miss them.” The shift in tone was immediate, and Suzy put a hand on Mark’s arm.

“I do too.”

Suzy surprised Holly by whipping around with a big smile, giving the whole conversation severe whiplash.

“Do you play cards, Holly?”

“It’s been a while,” she admitted, which just made the woman shrug.

“That’s not a big deal. You should play with us, sometime. We usually have some sort of game after dinner. I think tonight’s Settlers of Catan.”

“If you’re not too tired,” Mark put his hands up, and shot a look at Suzy.

“Maybe,” Holly said, as they stepped into the hall, even though she had no intention of playing.

The hall was already full of people, seated around a couple of tables in the center, eating grilled vegetables over rice.

She sat down next to Suzy, and was given a plate, which she instantly polished off, barely taking time to breathe. It was the most delicious thing she’d ever had, fresh and warm, and beat the beans and peanut butter she and her brother had been forced to eat on the road.

Her plate polished off, she looked up to find everyone staring at her.

“Just now that we have everyone other than Ross and Brian here, let’s figure out a couple things.” A guy in glasses began. “Everyone, this is Holly.”

Suzy pointed out everyone, and the names whizzed past Holly’s head, impossible to absorb.

“You’ve all heard how we found her on the road, so I propose we allow Holly to stay here full time, if she wishes.”

“All in favour?” said a skinny guy with poofy hair, obviously finding this whole thing ridiculous. Everyone raised their hand.

“We do need something from you, though. You said you were robbed,” Vernon said, and Holly’s stomach twisted.

“What about it?” she couldn’t shake the anxiousness, and she felt a little nauseous after eating so quickly.

“Describe them for me, them being the robbers,” said Vernon, and Holly hated the way they all stared at her. “We’re just wanting to get information on the road.”

“One was a big ginger guy, at least six feet tall and super muscular. Then there were two others; siblings, I think. A man and a woman, both asian. The woman was small and had tattoos up her arms. The man had a shaved head.”

She tried to remember their looks, something more specific, but it brought up memories of being pinned up against the bridge, two knives pointed at them. She was forced to step out of her shoes, and hand over her coat, while the woman went through her bag, and then Sam had said something, started struggling, and then there was more shouting and her brother was fighting, and one of them pulled out a gun-

“They had a red jersey, too,” she’d found a way to keep her voice steady, focusing on her task, “with a snake on the front.”

Everyone listening in went silent, and she noted Arin had gone a little pale. He and Vernon shared an interesting look, and Arin nodded, making Vernon get up from the table.

“Did you ever see two young men with them?” Arin folded his hands together and put them on the table. “Both white. One skinny and tall, the other chubby and average height?”

Holly shook her head.

“Did the people talk about anyone else? Did you hear any names?”

“Not that I remember.”

Arin opened his mouth, but shut it when Vernon came back into the hall, with something in his hand. It was a ratty looking jersey in lime green.

“Did it look something like this?”

Holly looked at the snake mascot on the chest.

“Yeah. That was it.”

The table grew silent again, and Holly looked to Suzy, completely lost.

“Matt and Ryan were wearing those jerseys,” she explained, her voice small, “they disappeared two months ago.”

They didn’t play Settlers that night.

                Everyone stayed quiet the next day. The only sounds in the cafeteria came from the dishes clashing together. This suited Holly just fine. She ate her breakfast and went back to her room, happy to have peace and quiet. While her hosts mourned whoever Matt and Ryan had been (because after her news they could only assume the worst,) she mourned Sam. She sat on her bed and cried for him, and the loss of what their future could’ve been.

She missed lunch, and then dinner, and didn’t leave her bed until just before sunset, when there came a knock on the door.

She didn’t want to answer, wanting to snuggle back under the sheets, but the knocking was persistent.

She opened it to find Suzy, antsy and nervous. Her cheeks were puffy and red, and she looked like she’d smudged her eyeliner wiping her face. Even so, she gave Holly a watery smile.

“Do you paint?” her voice was soft and friendly. Holly nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Come paint with me.”

Holly hesitated. She didn’t want to seem rude, but her bed was calling, and socialising didn’t appeal to her at a time like this.

“Please? You haven’t left you room in hours. Do it for me?” She was pleading now, and Holly’s resolve crumbled.

“Okay,” she mumbled, and Suzy brightened up, pulling her by the arm, “but only for a little while.”

They walked around the corner, then down the stairs, around another corner, up another set of stairs, then finally came to a classroom down a hallway. 225, it said on the door, Art Room.

“This is beautiful,” she had to comment, looking at the painted walls, the huge windows, the weathered tables, covered in decades of paint and ink.

“Yeah,” the woman said, and went to the shelves in the corner of the room, bringing out a palette.

“Is watercolour okay?”

Holly nodded, so Suzy filled up a glass, got paintbrushes and paper, putting them on the table.

They started their art, working in a strangely comfortable silence. Holly tried to shut her brain off and paint a cute dragon, focusing on her breathing and the movement of the colours. She looked over and saw what Suzy worked on.

“That’s really good,” she complimented, taking note of the great shading, “I love her outfit.”

“I like your dragon, too.”

There was a silence between them, and Holly put her paintbrush down.

“Are we really safe here?”

It was the third time someone had asked Suzy this. She looked out the window, her brush stopping for a moment.

“Yeah, safe as we can be.”

“I haven’t felt safe in two years.”

“I know.”

“It doesn’t feel real.”

Suzy turned to the other woman, holding her gaze.

“You know you’re welcome to stay here, where it’s safe.”

“I was there for the vote, or whatever.”

Suzy chuckled.

“It’s mainly Mark’s thing, that. He values group decisions.”

She surprised Holly by putting her hand on her arm, giving her a warm squeeze. For a moment Holly wanted to pull away, but something in her expression stopped her.

“We’re playing Uno tonight.”

She didn’t want to be rude, but...

“I don’t feel like playing.”

Suzy gave her a humourless smile, shrugging. She looked out the window, where some trees were blowing in the wind beyond the fence.

“I don’t think anyone does, but we should play anyway.”

Her voice was worn and tired. Holly gave her her best smile.

“Okay, I’ll come.”

Uno was fun, Holly had to admit. It was awkward and a little tense, but fun. Everyone moved stiffly, avoiding the elephant in the room and trying to act normal. She met Barry, who looked awkward as she felt, and they chatted during the game, both careful to dance around mines and keep the conversation light. Halfway through the game, another guy she’d never seen before walked into the classroom, wrapped in his comforter.

“Ross!” Barry sat up, excited, “how are you feeling?”

“Like death,” he complained, taking the spot next to him, “but my fever broke, I think.”

“This is Holly,” he said, and Ross looked over, giving her a smile even if it looked painful.

“Hey,” he said, “I’m Ross. I’d shake your hand, but I’m currently disgustingly infectious.”

“It’s okay,” she responded, “maybe when you’re less gross.”

The day after that felt easier. She got out of bed, ate breakfast, and started doing some chores. She washed dishes after lunch, and chopped firewood with Barry. After dinner they played Candyland. The next day, she decided she really liked Suzy, and that Dan was a sweetheart. By the next day, Ross had mostly recovered, and joined them for meals. The next day, they got assigned laundry, and another horde had started to pass through their area. So instead of walking to the river, they had the difficult task of washing everything in the sinks upstairs.

“You know what I miss the most?” he started, and she put a hand on the edge of the sink. They’d been scrubbing for an hour and everything was only half done. What had people done without washing machines?

“Hot showers?” she guessed.

He groaned.

“Yes. Definitely that, but I’m more talking about food. Meat. I miss meat. Like a delicious breaded chicken breast? God.”

She continued to scrub, focusing on a blue stain on someone’s shirt.

“I was a vegetarian before, so I can’t say the same.”

“Was?”

She shrugged.

“You can’t be too picky in an apocalypse.”

He smiled.

“Too true. That’s cool though, being a vegetarian. You an animal lover?”

She hummed.

“I had three cockatiels and twenty chickens growing up.”

Ross just gaped.

“Twenty? Jesus, I just had a beta fish. I named him Goku.”

She laughed at this, and he gave her a sheepish smile.

“That’s adorable. Did you ever want more animals?”

“Of course. Cats, birds, more fish. I always wanted as many as I could take care of.”

She was exactly the same way. She tucked some hair behind her ear, trying to hide the way she smiled.

“I miss stir-fry. And chili.”

“Mmm, and cinnamon rolls.”

“Pot pies.”

“Cupcakes.” Holly used to bake them herself.

“Fried rice.”

“Sushi,” added Ross.

“Ramen,” they said at the same time, turning to each other excitedly.

Holly decided right then and there that she liked Ross tremendously. They spent the next hour finishing the washing, and she had to keep checking in the mirror to see whether the blush she felt in her cheeks had turned her face red.

The next day, she sang in the shower, and Suzy showed her the secret to making her own eyeliner from the charcoal she’d found in the firepit. They spent the day in the sun, comparing their tattoos and telling stories, and Holly wondered exactly why she was so mistrustful of this woman in the first place. The next day, she made tomato and rice soup for lunch, and everyone complimented her on the recipe.

She still thought of Sam every day, and sometimes the anxiety of whatever lay outside her dorm door became too much to handle. But things got easier. Good food and good company worked wonders, and she no longer wanted to stay in bed, or avoid the others. She enjoyed painting with Suzy, and talking with Vernon, and joking around with Arin.

By the time her third week had rolled around, she found herself wanting to stay.


	4. The Cafeteria

For once, Arin was having a good dream, and while he couldn’t exactly place what it was about, he wasn’t shaking, or screaming, or waking Suzy, so it was a clear win in his books. So Dan bursting into his room, and waking his wife, who then rolled around with a groan and woke him, was enough for him to see red in his sleep-smeared vision.

“Arin,” her sleepy voice, muffled through the comforter, came through, and he sighed as she shook his shoulder. “Dan’s here.”

“Why the fuck is Dan here?” He gritted into his pillow. She paused, the way she usually paused when she was frustrated and didn’t want to say something scathing.

“I don’t know, maybe ask him,” was the suggestion. Arin turned to the door, where Dan lingered, blocking the light coming from the hallway.

“Sorry. I had to wake you.”

Arin brushed some hair off of his forehead, his eyes squinted as he sat up.

“Jesus, are you a small child? Do I have a kid and just not know about it?”

Dan was too busy laughing to respond, which made Arin just continue his rant.

“Suzy, did you give birth to this obnoxious kid and just forgot to tell me, because otherwise-“

“Matt and Ryan are back.”

Arin hopped out of bed, not caring he was in his briefs. If he was lying, he swore to god-

“Are you kidding me?”

Dan shook his head, and Suzy got out of bed, too. Hurrying to throw on a shirt, she pulled her hair up and joined them.

“Oh, my god,” her voice broke as she spoke. “Where are they?”

“Coming in through the main gates.”

“Wake up the others,” Arin ordered, and he nodded, sprinting off to the dorms.

“Race you,” said Suzy, awake enough to tease as she shot down the hallway. Arin jogged after her, partly because he was in his underwear and running felt undignified, but mostly because Suzy was long gone, laughing at how slow he was as she raced to the main hall.

His feet thudded down the stairs, causing the ancient floorboards to creak and groan as he gained speed. In the entrance hall, he broke into a full run, and the feeling of absolute joy and exhilaration he felt was unmatched. They were alive. They were back!

He saw the two once he opened the front doors, walking stiffly, looking like they’d been through hell and back. Arin didn’t care. He started sprinting, almost catching up to Suzy in his excitement. The two practically jumped them, knocking Ryan off-balance and sending Matt tipping to the ground. Matt swore, as colourful and creative as Arin remembered, and he only just stopped himself from crying when a huge bubble of emotion swelled and tried to burst in his chest.

Ryan put something back into his pocket, and pointed an angry finger at Arin.

“What the fuck! Jesus, I almost shot you!” Arin responded by smothering him with a hug.

“You piece of shit. You’re alive!”

“Why are you naked?” asked Matt from Suzy’s arms, and he was happy to see that she had a wet face as well. He gave Matt an obvious smile, and abandoned Ryan to hug him instead.

“Duh, I heard you were here and was so excited I had to strip.”

Ryan nodded, “yeah we get that a lot.”

“What took you guys so long?” came Suzy’s question, and then, “also, can we go inside? I’m freezing.”

Dan came bounding to where they were, followed by Mark and Vernon. They joined the huddle, tackling them so hard everyone almost tipped over a second time. Mark burst into tears, which just made Dan water up, too. Ryan looked vaguely uncomfortable, while Matt just shook it off by calling Dan a pussy and clapping him on the back.

“That’s it,” announced Vernon, once everyone had stopped chattering, “we’re having pancakes. It’s official.”

“You need to tell us everything,” Mark added, patting his pockets, for the keys, “I’ll unlock the cafeteria.”

“Uh,” said Matt, “Can I have a shower first? I’m caked in blood, and I’ve been itching for days.”

“Naw,” said Ryan, following Mark’s lead, “that’s just the STDs.”

Matt whipped around, “that I got from your mom.”

“Wow. I almost missed the ‘your mom’ jokes,” said Suzy, her grin wide as they went back inside, “Almost, but not quite.”

“I missed the ‘your mom’ jokes,” said Arin.

“Don’t,” Dan sighed, “encourage them.”

They set up at the round table so everyone would fit, and even Holly, who’d probably heard the raucous from upstairs, came and joined them. She shook both their hands, looking a little concerned as Mark continued to bawl as he stirred the batter, but smiled once she got a taste of their bickering.

“I’ll go wake up Barry and Ross,” she offered, “I think you guys would get along.”

With syrup, a plate stacked with a mountain of pancakes, and two boxes of tissues, everyone tucked in, taking their turns crying, laughing, and telling stories. Just before he could get everyone to shut up to grill the two, Arin saw the door open out of the corner of his eye, and turned, smiling.

“Yo, Brian!” Arin called, his voice echoing across the huge space. “Come join us! We have pancakes!”

The man hesitated, but as Arin was about to call him over again, he turned back, letting the industrial cafeteria doors shut behind him. The bang echoed around the cafeteria, making everyone go quiet.

“Nice, dude,” said Ryan, and Arin just glared.

“Who was that?” asked Matt, and Barry spoke up, pancake halfway to his mouth.

“That’s Brian. He was with me and Ross when we met Suzy and Dan.”

“It was a disaster,” said Suzy at the same time as Dan said, “we almost got scarfed.”

“And then Holly showed up a couple days ago,” Suzy said, rubbing the other girl’s arm.

“Four newbies in one month.” Whistled Ryan, “You guys must’ve missed us.”

“Yeah, well,” Vernon said, “it was getting too quiet.”

“I for one, need you to tell me what happened and why you took so god damn long!” demanded Mark, his voice pitching up.

“I second this,” Vernon pointed at them with his fork, “I want to hear your excuse.”

“We didn’t just decide to disappear for a month,” Ryan’s voice was a little peeved, “we ran into trouble after the bridge.”

“Which bridge is this?” Holly sounded lost, but Ryan turned to her.

“There’s a river real close to this area, and upstream, it goes to some farmland, while downstream, past some thick forest areas, it joins with a bunch of others.”

“There’s a big bridge about a day’s walk,” explained Arin, “and if you cross it, that road takes you to a highway.”

“And that highway leads to a little village,” finished Matt. “We wanted to see if anyone was alive there, and if they wanted to come back with us where it’s safe.”

“That’s,” Holly trailed off, “really brave of you.”

“We found someone before things went to shit, too,” Ryan grimaced into his plate, “but we got attacked.”

“I would say it’s more like we got robbed,” Matt said, and Ryan whipped around and pointed a finger at him.

“They robbed us because you fell asleep!”

“Oh, like you don’t sleep through shifts.”

“They took everything!”

“It’s not like I was having a great time, either. The bastards broke my nose.”

“Anyways,” came Vernon’s voice, cutting through their squabble. Matt continued.

“We had to walk back the way we came. Didn’t have anything except for clothes.”

“And a fishing pole.”

“Yeah, what a help that was. You ever try to kill a zombie with a fishing pole?”

“Wait,” said Ross, “back up for a second. You said you found someone?”

That seemed to snap the two from their bickering.

“Yeah. This Irish guy. Even gave us some supplies, real nice.”

“Everything got stolen, anyways, but it was kind of him.”

“What happened to him?” came Holly’s voice. The two shrugged.

“I’m not sure. Things got crazy while the thieves got away. We ran into a huge hoard and split, unfortunately, in separate directions.”

“Do you think he’s still alive?” Dan couldn’t help asking.

“Oh definitely,” syrup was on Ryan’s chin, and he brushed it off with his thumb. “He was smart. Survived on his own for a long time, and fast, too. He used a field hockey stick, and knew how to break kneecaps. It’d surprise me if he’s dead.”

The two shared a curious look, and Matt turned to them, taking a breath.

“Which is why we’re heading back tomorrow.”

The whole table looked at them in shock.

“Uh,” Vernon smiled nervously, “no you’re not.”

Suzy couldn’t help but agree. “You just got back.”

“Also you’re starving,” came Mark’s voice.

“Ryan just got to a healthy body weight,” added Arin, making Ryan scowl.

“Oh fuck you, like you’re not a fatso, too.”

Mark cut off whatever Arin was about to say.

“Regardless of whether you’re going back or not, you can’t leave tomorrow.”

Vernon nodded.

“You need to eat a lot of food, sleep a long time, get out of those disgusting clothes, and maybe, we’ll talk about going.”

“And then vote on it,” Mark added, just to piss people off.

“Ugh, you and voting,” Matt grumbled, and then gestured to the stack across the pancakes, “Fine, whatever. We’ll stay for a bit. Now pass me more. I haven’t eaten in three fucking days.”


	5. The Garden

Everyone slept in the next day, save for Mark, who was up bright and early to make breakfast. By ten, people had made their way to the cafeteria, helping to make coffee, and complaining about eating leftovers.

“Ryan’s sleeping in,” Matt said when asked, and Suzy nodded, sitting down beside him. The pancakes and syrup were still on the table, so one by one they grabbed plates from the kitchen, nibbling while they waited for hot food.

Brian sat alone with his cup of coffee, far enough away to make a statement. Dan started walking towards him, empty plate in hand. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Brian’s glare targeted at him, though, and felt his courage wither in seconds. Feeling awkward, he changed his path, choosing to sit with everyone else.

Ross’ face was in his arms, folded on the table.

“Your happiness makes me so angry,” he said, and Arin poked him in the side, making him jump up in surprise.

“Why are you so chipper?” Matt asked, big bags under his eyes. Dan thought he would’ve chosen to sleep in, but his face had already been too thin for comfort, so maybe skipping meals for a couple extra hours wasn’t the best idea.

“Grading math tests at three in the morning forces you to get used to no sleep,” Mark explained cheerily, sliding some stale pancakes and porridge Matt’s way. “Now, pass me your bowl. I burnt the wheat a little but I also made too much, so eat up.”

The porridge was indeed burnt. Dan had never liked it in the first place, but he ate it anyway, taking bites of pancakes. The plate disappeared quick, and Arin and Suzy both reached for the last one at the same time.

“You’ve had three,” she said, “I’m having the last one.”

“I’m a growing boy,” he argued, only making Suzy laugh. “I need my energy.”

“I think as the person who almost died, I deserve the last pancake,” said Matt.

“Brian hasn’t eaten anything,” came Holly’s voice, and she took the plate from the three of them, passing it to Dan, “here. Take it to him and make sure he eats.”

They all looked at him, and he felt a blush rise to his face. He’d already been shunned away from Brian’s table, but no one stepped up to take his place. Holly gave him an encouraging smile, and he swallowed.

“Okay.“ Taking a deep breath, he took the plate in his hands, standing up. The cafeteria went silent, and he felt everyone in the room watch him. Brian pulled his best glare out once he got close, but he kept walking.

He put the plate down in front of the man, who kept himself childishly silent, choosing to stare into his coffee instead.

“I brought you the last pancake.” He put a fork down beside it, feeling a sense of relief when the chattering continued behind him. “Eat up.”

The silence wore on, and the man didn’t move, and from here his greying hair and shaggy scruff just made him look tired rather than intimidating.

“You haven’t eaten anything.” Stated Dan, with a little more force than he needed to. The guy’s jaw looked tight, like he wanted to snap his neck for even talking to him, but Dan felt a twinge of sympathy when he saw how dark the circles under his eyes had become.

“I’m not hungry,” he said, giving him another flash of blue eyes. Dan had never heard his voice before, and it sounded rough with misuse. He gritted his teeth.

“I don’t care,” he said, starting to get angry. “You haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, and I’m not leaving until those pancakes are gone. Do you want to be responsible for wasting food?”

He knew Brian had heard the rest of them fight over the remaining pancakes, but he decided to use another tactic. He cut out a tiny piece of pancake, stabbing it with a fork and holding it out in front of the man. If he wanted to act like a child, so be it.

“Here comes the airplane,” he teased, with the goofiest voice he could make, and did vrooming sound-effects as he brought the piece towards the guy’s face. For a moment, he just looked furious. After a second, Brian caught his hand, stopping the progress of the plane. His mouth was a thin line, but Dan’s entire chest exploded with triumph when he saw amusement in those cold eyes.

“Fine, Daddy,” Brian sassed, taking the fork, and biting down. Dan felt his face split open into a smile, excited at the development. He dug into his porridge, satisfied, as the guy choked it down, but as much as he tried, he couldn’t get Brian to say another word.

After they had lapsed into incredibly awkward silence, Brian left, not even turning back to Dan’s halfhearted, “see you, man.”

 Dan finished his porridge, a little humiliated, but forced himself to think positively. He had gotten him to eat, after all.

After trying to talk to him at lunch, and failing miserably, he decided that Brian just didn’t want to socialize. Dan found his own space after that, not exactly in the mood for being turned down again. A couple hours before dinner, he was stopped by Vernon, who looked through the thick glass windows. The floor was wet from mopping, and Dan jumped over the parts he’d already washed.

“Was there anyone outside when you were on dishes?”

“No,” was his reply.

Vernon sighed. “You need to tell him he can’t be outside by himself.”

Dan felt his face go red just thinking about breakfast. “Why can’t you do it?”

Vernon just gave him a look, lifting up his mop and bucket.

“I’m in the middle of something. It’ll take five seconds, just go.”

He didn’t like being pushed around, but couldn’t come up with an argument, so found himself walking outside, already feeling stupid.

The guy looked at him once he noticed Dan walking up, and went back to the garden, seeming to sigh in annoyance. Jesus, he was being an asshole.

“There’s a rule for the garden,” he explained, once he got to the edge of the grass, where the soil was dug up for planting. Brian stayed quiet. “You can’t be alone. The fences aren’t the strongest, and you don’t want a zombie getting a nibble because you’re way into the onions.”

The guy didn’t laugh, or say anything, making the moment stretch out long and thick between them. Dan twiddled his fingers in frustration, but he squashed down the need to fill the silence. If this guy really didn’t want to talk, that was his choice and his problem.

He noted the guy’s movement, as he knelt between rows, studying the plants, inspecting the leaves.

“Oh, you know how to garden?” He watched as the man on the ground started plucking weeds from around the plant, every so often checking underneath and finding a tiny dark green bulb. “Yeah. Arin said Matt planted some squash somewhere. He wouldn’t let me near it, after I killed the garlic, which is apparently really hard to do, because it’s invincible, or something.”

“It’s zucchini,” the man said, cutting off whatever he was about to ramble on about next, and Danny was so shocked he forgot how to form words.

“What?”

“It’s zucchini,” the guy continued, his voice a little snappish, “not squash. You can tell by the leaves.”

He held a palm between his fingers, and then moved it to the plants a row over.

“See? It’s all in the leaves.”

Dan nodded, still floored. The guy turned back to the zucchini, weeding with quick, precise movements.

“That’s cool man,” he continued. “Do you garden?”

Brian shook his head.

“My wife does-did,” he corrected, catching himself with a terse voice, “she did.”

The silence that came over the garden felt very different now, and Dan kept his mouth shut, like if he spoke he’d break whatever spell Brian was under. He continued to weed, while Danny held his axe at the ready, keeping a lookout.

“She’d come inside from being in the garden,” his voice sounded more natural now, as if breaking the silence came easily to him. Dan could hear a little fondness in his voice, “just covered in dirt, you know? She’d track it around the house, drove me fucking nuts.”

Danny didn’t need to ask what happened to her.

“It’s weird seeing a garden. Even after everything, there’s still people creating a space specific for life. Even out in the forest, with the trees, seeing minnows in the streams, it’s easy to forget what happened. I mean,” he chuckled, and it sounded strained to Dan. “The fish don’t care. They’ve always been there and they’re gonna be there long after this shitshow ends.”

His weeding continued, quick, practiced movements that cleaned out the zucchini’s bed.

“But there’s life here.” He sat up on his haunches, and gave a glance back to Dan. His hands were coated with earth, slightly damp, but he brought them up to his nose, taking a breath. “It smells the same. It-“ his voice broke, his face contorting as he clutched the bundle between his hands, twisting the weeds between his fingers, “it smells like her.”

He put his head down and let out a shuddering breath, and Dan didn’t know what to say, petrified in the moment. But Brian recovered as quickly as he’d broken, and he looked grateful enough when Dan offered him a hand. The man dropped the weeds and took it, letting Dan pull him standing.

“Fuck,” Brian laughed a little, and Dan did the same, watching misty-eyed as the man wiped away some tears, smearing dirt across his cheek. “You’re a good guy, Danny. I’m glad I saved your ass.”

Dan risked slinging an arm around his shoulder, and Brian didn’t flinch away.

Suzy caught them as they walked into the hallway, probably noticing Dan’s puffy face, as well as the way they were hanging off each other.

“Hey. You okay?”

Brian nodded, and before Dan responded, he brushed the dirt off his hands, saying, “did you say you were playing Monopoly tonight?”

Suzy did a better job at hiding her surprise than Dan had. She smiled, so far she had wrinkles around her killer eyeliner.

“Yeah! Uh, we’re just getting set up in the rec room now. Come join us.”

                They walked in on Arin and Ross both on the ground, doing atrocious push-ups and shouting out numbers. Holly looked up from her book, trying not to look amused.

“They’re fighting over who gets to be the car,” she explained.

“And you didn’t just whip out your dicks to see whose was bigger?” asked Brian, so straight-faced that Dan burst out laughing, clapping his hands together at everyone’s stunned faces.

The two continued, though it was a losing battle for both of them. Ross had no muscle to speak of, and Arin’s arms didn’t quite have enough strength to offset his thick body. Dan was still laughing, and Barry sat on the couch next to him, plucking the car from the board.

“I think he deserves a car for that savagery,” said Barry, and Suzy nodded her head, so he chucked it at him.

Despite Arin and Ross’ protests (“and I was totally going to win, too,” Arin grumbled, only for Holly to point out he’d been down six points), Brian caught the car, grinning.

“Better bow down, peasants. I’m the superior household object.”

“I always liked the shoe best,” said Vernon, as Dan sat down besides Brian, “a car can run out of gas, and the iron gets cold, but the shoe’ll have your back for life.”

“That’s really poetic for the fucking ugliest shoe I’ve ever seen,” Suzy laughed, “I want to be the stylish top hat.” Holly claimed the iron before Ross could snatch it up, and Barry took the thimble.

“There’s no pieces left,” complained Ross, a little giddy from the pushups, “now how will I prove my superiority?”

Holly giggled, pointing to the shelf, “just use the pieces from Clue, you goose.”

With the scandalous Lady Scarlett and the esteemed Colonel Mustard in the game, they finally started. Dan, after a startling twenty minutes, remembered exactly why he didn’t like monopoly. It was long, tedious, and always ended up with one person dominating the board. In this case, that person was Suzy, who would throw down her cards and yell, “what’s up bitches?” every time she bankrupted someone.

And he couldn’t help feel his spirits sink when Brian, who had smiled (smiled!) at the beginning, had lapsed back into silence as the game went on. Also, Dan was losing atrociously, which didn’t help.

Holly took pity on Dan, giving him her money as she stood up with Barry.

“We’re on dinner duty,” she explained.

“Oh,” said Vernon, ignoring the murderous look on Arin’s face when he landed on his spot, shouting a, “fuck!” of genuine fury. “What’s for dinner?”

“Macaroni,” announced Barry, “better get excited.”

“With cheese?” The promise of food broke Arin out of his anger.

Holly shook her head, and they all deflated a little, despite the fact they’d all seen the pitiful pantry themselves.

“No. Just tomato sauce.”

“There’s cheez-whiz on the third shelf, though,” said Ross, who’d been the first to go bankrupt, and was now happy to watch the chaos under Suzy’s reign, “you could use that.”

“Ew,” she scrunched her nose.

“The only thing that’ll kill you faster than a zombie is the garbage in that pantry,” said Barry, dryly.

Arin shrugged, stretching his arms far above himself and imagining the cheesy goodness.

“But what a way to go.”

                Brian got up once he had been bankrupted, passing on his cards and moving towards his room. Dan followed, a little anxious about whether he’d done something wrong. He knew he couldn’t stop Brian from being silent, especially if he just decided to be stubborn. And god knows he wasn’t in charge of Brian’s well-being. But still, something made him get up and follow, something that drew him closer and told him not to give up.

“I thought our garden breakdown was enough bonding for the day.” Brian paused at the stairs, looking at Dan like an unappreciated limpet.

“What were you before the outbreak?” he blurted out, before Brian walked away. Brian kept walking, but he looked over his shoulder, as if he expected Dan to follow.

“A Professor,” he shrugged, as if that wasn’t incredible and impressive.

“In?”

“Theoretical physics,” the guy answered, bored, as they reached his room.

“Where did you teach?”

“What did you take in college?” Brian asked instead of answering, standing a little too close for comfort.

“Botany.”

Brian looked like he didn’t believe him.

“I, uh, didn’t finish my degree.”

Brian hummed, and they reached his door.

“College dropout, huh? So you’re a bad boy?”

Dan had to laugh at this. Brian didn’t smile, but once again, he saw mirth in his eyes. This guy had a weird sense of humour, but damn, Dan could roll with it.

“I was a total bad boy, with my nerdy friends, and addiction to the Elder Scrolls.” He leaned his back against the door of Brian’s room, smiling. “Naw, I was more of a music nerd in school, choirs and stuff.”

“So you sang?”

“Yeah. Mostly in a band after I dropped out. Skyhill.”

Brian blinked.

“Never heard of them.”

“We weren’t the most successful band.” When an awkward silence passed between them, he asked, “did you play a musical instrument in highschool?”

Brian smirked, “I played saxophone in band.”

“Best way to get the ladies, I bet.”

He nodded solemnly.

“But I play piano, used to perform, too.”

Dan’s entire face lit up.

“You should play for me sometime.”

Brian just rolled his eyes.

“I haven’t played in years.”

“I haven’t sung in years. My pitch accuracy is probably shit. We could jam, there’s probably a music room with a piano somewhere. Mark has the key.”

Brian considered Dan with a curious look, but then nodded.“It’s a date then.”

Dan managed to smile wider, “great.”

“Can you get off my door now?” Brian’s question snapped Dan out of the goofy place he’d been.

He shuffled out of the way, a little awkward.

“Thanks,” the other man said, his face a little devious, “see you around, bad boy.”

Dan just giggled as he shut the door.


	6. The Chicken House

The days passed, generally uneventful.

Mark gave them the key to the music room, and sitting right smack in the centre, was an old, dusty piano with a worn brown shell. Brian played a scale with his right hand, and Dan laughed a little at how out of tune it sounded.

“Do you know how to tune a piano, Mr. Professor?”

“That’s Dr. Professor to you,” he retorted, and then sat down at the bench, “and yeah, I do, at least in theory.”

He played a couple scales, then did a ditty, his fingers moving perfectly. Then, with a seamless transition, he went into another one. Dan watched as the man’s entire body seemed to shine, as he got back into his instrument. Even with two years of rust on him, he smiled at the sound, turning to Dan once he snapped out of the spell.

“Anything in here you want to sing?”

The question made Dan realize he’d been staring, so he turned, walking up to one of the tall bookshelves on the wall. Aside from thick conductor’s scores and a couple boxes of CDs, there was a little section of musical theatre books. The Wizard of Oz, Dreamgirls, The Music Man, Hair, Les Mis, and Little Shop of Horrors were among the options. Dan pulled out Hair, and smiled, remembering the music.

“I fucking adore that musical,” announced Brian, and he reached out his arm, wiggling his fingers. “gimmie.”

“God, me too.” Brian flattened the book onto the music stand, scrubbing through the score with his eyes.

“Can you sight sing?”

“Not well,” admitted Dan, “but I know the song.”

“Cool,” said Brian, and he started to play.

As soon as they finished Aquarius, they moved onto Going Down, then onto Hair, and then I Got Life. After they got tired of that, Dan pulled a dusty collection of Elton John from another shelf. Three songs in, Dan was a little breathless, but almost felt high, getting into the music. He wasn’t a belter, but there was power behind his voice. The music room felt alive with the two of them playing, and the outside seemed to disappear.

“Damn, I’m surprised I remember that song. I did alright, huh?”

Brian smiled a cheeky smile before turning back to the piano.

“Yeah, well try not to suck your own dick too hard. That’s what I’m here for.”

Dan turned red, and Brian’s eyes lit up at his discomfort.

“What? Sucking my dick?”

“Yeah, totally. I’m basically a dick sucking machine.”

Dan laughed. He had to admit Brian had a great sense of humour, even if he felt too nervous to meet his eye.

“Want to play the song again?”

“No, I want to continue this fascinating and nuanced conversation concerning how I’m going to suck your dick.”

Brian’s eyes were laughing, and Dan punched him in the arm, telling him to cut it out. Brian’s stern look failed, his mouth breaking into a smile. He straightened up, starting to play the piece again, and then Dan started to sing.

They played for a couple hours, but it flew by like minutes, and Dan felt the rush again. Pure joy pumped through his veins, and the adrenaline he always got when he sang relaxed the muscles in his shoulders, pushed his body up straight. They played, and bantered, and flirted until Arin popped his head in, telling them that lunch was ready.

The two of them walked down to the cafeteria together, shoulders brushing as they moved, and for the first time in almost two years, Dan felt light.

At lunch, Ross regaled the story of how he, Brian, and Barry got saved by Dan and Suzy. Or, according to Brian, how they saved Dan and Suzy. The whole group laughed as everyone cut in to change the story, or make a correction. Barry smiled, but stayed off to the side, happy to watch the scene unfold.

“And I thought there was a zombie in the barn, and nearly had a heart attack, but it was just a chicken.”

“Yeah, I saw them in the coop,” said Suzy. Holly visible straightened.

“Wait, wait, those chickens are there by themselves?”

“Yeah,” said Ross, “So, they’re banging on the door,” but Holly interrupted him.

“We need to go back for those chickens.”

Mark took one look at her and shook his head. Ross sighed, not appreciating being ignored.

“No one’s going back to the farm.”

“Yeah,” Vernon piped in, “we have to wait until the horde clears.”

“How did they look?” she asked Ross, her voice focused, “what kind of coop were they in?”

“Uh, I didn’t look at them for very long. They were walking outside. They looked pretty scraggly, but they were eating bugs and shit.”

“We can settle this in five seconds,” said Mark. “All in favour of Holly going to the farm?”

Only Holly raised her hand, followed by Ross a second later. She looked at the group around her, her face pinched.

“They’re going to starve, and if not, eaten by zombies. We can’t just leave them there.”

And after a silence, “and they’ll lay eggs, and we won’t have to worry so much about protein.”

“Yeah,” said Vernon, giving her a shrug, “I’m sorry. It’s too dangerous.” He paused. “And they’re chickens. We can always see if they’re still there later in a couple of days.”

Holly opened her mouth to respond, her face red, but Ross caught her arm.

“Let’s maybe talk about it later,” he looked her in the eye, and she relaxed, nodding, and tucked some hair behind her ear.

“Okay, fine.” She turned around, grabbed his shirt, “but you have to help me with compost,” and dragged him off by his collar.

 

                As per usual, dinner was casual, just some chopped vegetables from the garden, stewed over rice and seasoned with whatever Dan and Mark had found in the kitchen. It smelled delicious, and by the time the two had banged their spoons on the pots, and shut off the gas, almost everyone had gathered with their bowls.

Dan loved summer, and he breathed slow and deep. The sun had started to set, but it cast a golden glow on everything, turning shadows long and thin as they headed out to the field. It really was too beautiful to sit inside, regardless of mosquitos, and two picnic tables meant for enjoying the weather sat at the west end of the property. Arin and Suzy sat out with Dan on the weathered wood, the two pressed together on the bench, with him cross legged on the top. He shifted, careful not to get a splinter through his jeans. He wasn’t the best of cooks, but considering what they had, he couldn’t complain about the taste. Their garden gave them plenty of cucumbers, onions, zucchini, garlic, among other odds and ends they could find seeds for, but the pantry had run out of beans, lentils, and everything remotely solid a month ago. As a result, his stomach had taken on a constant sad state, never quite satisfied with grains and veggies.

“Ross is pulling all he has to impress her,” she whispered to her husband, even though Dan was close enough to hear. Anyway, he was grateful for the distraction, because his bowl was sadly, sadly empty. Ross and Holly had sulked off to mix the compost without a word after their meal, leaving the air from the fight un-resolved. Arin glanced over where the two stood. Ross leaned on the fence, his shovel in his hand, saying something inaudible, while she actually made progress on her work. He saw it in his face, his body, and that shit-eating grin. He turned back to Suzy, an excited expression forming on his face.

“Oh my god, you’re so right.” He rubbed his hands together, letting out a maniacal laugh, “there’s so much I can do with this.”

“Don’t ruin their fun, you asshole,” came Dan’s voice, hushed, because Arin was completely incapable of whispering, "though I will be making so much fun of him later.”

Suzy rolled her eyes, scraping the last remnants of spinach from her bowl, “You guys are mean. I find it cute.”

“I see that,” admitted Dan, he leaned back, letting the sun hit his face, and (carefully) pressing the palms of his hands into the table. He’d never asked how Suzy and Arin had met, whether it was on the road, or much longer ago, when they could’ve thought about a future together. Maybe they wanted kids, or a house they couldn’t afford, rather than babysitting refugees in an abandoned boarding school.

Then again, they were still together. They had lost a lot less than the majority of people here.

“I don’t,” said Arin, before he could ask, “I bet you ten bucks she turns him down.”

Holly’s giggles attracted the three’s attention, and they all watched as Ross got a playful nudge with the handle of her shovel, sending him back a step. The two kept eye contact, only broken when Holly went back to the compost.

“Shit,” said Arin, making Dan burst out laughing, leaning far enough he almost let his plate slip from his lap.

“Easiest ten bucks I ever made.”

“This is why I never gamble,” Arin grumbled, but it was all in good fun. No one had used money in years.

                Dinner went by, and the sun set. Mosquitoes came and swarmed them like a well-trained battalion, forcing everyone to retreat indoors. Well, everyone except for Arin, Barry and Matt, who were stuck with dish duty. They filled up the big bucket, and went to work, scrubbing, sudsing, rinsing, drying, and eventually dumping the grey water at the area furthest from the building, hauling it back when they were done.

When Arin finally came back inside, covered in big bites all down his arms, because they had always found him the most delicious, Dan was hanging in the common area. He had found a big fuzzy blanket, and wrapped himself into a cocoon, making his way through a beaten copy of Lord of the Flies.

“Never took you for a literature guy.” The big man fell onto the couch, making him bounce.

“I’m just bored,” he shrugged, letting it fall to his lap. Half of the pages had been dog-eared, and someone had written essay ideas into the margins, and had gone to town with a green highlighter, “and it’s not like I actually read it in my high school days, so might as well make up for it now.”

“I guess we all did kinda go back to high school.”

He continued, “except for Matt, I don’t think he ever left.”

Dan knew Matt was a student, but had never heard the full story.

“How old was he when it started?”

“Sixteen,” he thought, counting on his fingers to get the numbers right. And didn’t that just hit Dan in the gut. “because Ryan had just graduated. Yeah. He was sixteen.”

Dan had a life before society fell apart. Not a perfect one, but caulk full of memories and people he could treasure. And any case, his time in the school had actually given him friendships he wished he’d had back then, as well as the tools he’d needed to survive. But being sixteen when things started? God, at least Dan had lived and breathed and struggled through thirty five years. He’d had time to become himself, live on his own, work shitty jobs. Matt had never gotten a driver’s license, never went to prom, never worn a cheesy gown and graduated, throwing a cap into the air before thanking god he could leave these halls and never come back.

“Jesus,” was all he could say. Matt had had sixteen years to prepare for a future that went down the drain in a matter of months. He didn’t know how you could begin to mourn that loss.

Arin’s smile faltered, and for a moment he just looked tired.

“Look,” he started, “thanks for reaching out to Brian the other day. I know you were probably just as nice to him as you are everyone else, but I appreciate it.”

Dan hadn’t expected that, but Arin’s tone was sincere. He nodded.

“No problem, man.”

“I try to keep people busy, you know? Keep their minds off all the,” he waved his hands around in a frustrated motion, “all of this shit. Board games, cleaning, gardening, every sort of group meeting known to man, I even tried to start playing croquet with Suzy and Vernon.”

He paused, a giggle in his voice.

“I’m really bad at croquet,” and Dan smiled, looking at the dust building up on the tenth grade textbooks on the shelves before turning back to Arin.

“It’s hard, because people don’t leave the shit that happened outside,” Arin nodded in agreement, humming, “I mean, we might be safe in here, but everyone has stuff that doesn’t just go away.”

“But,” he continued, “Arin, you do make it better. You keep things normal, make everyone feel like a family.”

Arin looked like Dan had just made his year, and Dan ran his hands through his hair. Arin had worked so hard to make people feel welcome, but it was difficult for Dan not to be worried for someone who spent so much time caring for other people.

“It’s hard not to feel helpless, you know? When people just lock themselves in.”

Dan thought back to Brian, and how Holly had been those first couple of days.

“There’s only so much you can do.”

Arin would eventually learn he wasn’t responsible for other people’s happiness. _Hopefully_ , thought Dan, a little concerned, _someday_. Some lessons were more difficult than others.

Arin surprised him by giving him a monster hug, catching him off guard and forcing the air from his lungs, his arms trapped awkwardly by his sides in the blanket.

“You’re a good friend.”

Dan probably would’ve responded if he wasn’t being crushed to death at the time. Arin released him, finally letting him breathe. He then waggled his eyebrows, still clutching his shoulders.

“Anyways, speaking of chores.” He grinned as Dan groaned, throwing his head back to hit the couch cushions, his annoyed look completely ruined by the blanket burrito.

“The corn’s almost ready, so help me get the tools out for tomorrow.”

“Ugh, fine. But I refuse to pick corn tomorrow. I’ve got a depressing book to read.”

“Fucking whatever, dude,” said Arin, waving a hand at him, “your loss. It’s gonna be a bopping party.”

Mark gave them the key without a fuss, already in his pajamas when they found him, toothbrush in hand.

“Give it back in the morning,” he said, “Arin and I had watch last night and I’m still exhausted.”

They went to the shed, walking over the field with flashlights. It was late, and Dan had to swallow a yawn, just wanting to go to bed and sleep off his emotional exhaustion. Arin opened the door and stepped in, followed by Dan. The workshop looked creepy at night, but with Arin and the flashlights, it wasn’t so bad. He frowned beside him, taking a walk around the tables and coming back to the entrance.

“Shit.” He put a hand on his hip, and bent over to take a look under the main big oak desk. No luck. “There was a wheelbarrow here. I swear to god, if Vernon left it out in the yard again-“

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” said Dan. He shone his light on the spot where the coils of rope and wire cutters were. Only the shitty child scissors were left, the ones that could barely cut paper. “Someone took some rope, and wire cutters, just perfect to perform a jail break on some chickens.”

“Arg!” Shouted Arin, “That god damn Aussi. We had a fucking vote!”

Arin threw the pair of scissors across the shed, and they made a lame clattering sound on the floor.

“Woah, man. I was there,” said Dan, his voice getting a little giggly, “but he’s probably with Holly. Impress with his chicken saving abilities, get the babe.”

“That horny little shit.” Dan just laughed. He wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Are you telling me you wouldn’t do the exact same thing if it were you and Suzy?”

That got Arin’s attention.

“Well, no, but-“ He trailed off, and then shrugged, to Dan’s amusement, “yeah. I probably would.”

“It is a stupid thing to do, though.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Look at this,” the corner where they kept the weapons was untouched, except for the two shovels they’d been using to shovel the compost.

Arin sighed.

“They’re probably already dead.”

“Especially in the dark,” said Dan.

“And the hordes lately,” said Arin.

“The farm is worse,” added Dan.

“With the tall fields,” added Arin.

A moment passed between them.

“Do you think we should help them?”

“Yeah,” Dan grabbed his trusty axe, and gave a baseball bat to Arin, “I think we should.”

“Suzy’s gonna be pissed,” he responded. Dan just shrugged.

“And Mark’s gonna be like a sad puppy.”

“I’ll Probably have to sleep on the couch for a week.” He tied up his hair, and switched out his sandals for work boots. Dan slung a backpack over his shoulders.

“I’ll Probably get to listen to Mark’s spiel about democracy and team decisions.”

They locked eyes, already agreeing.

“If we get back before sunrise,” started Arin, packing flashlights, the medical kit, and an extra axe, “we can blame everything on Ross anyway.”

“It is his fault,” Dan mumbled, pulling on the smaller set of chest pads, and chucking gloves to Arin. “Also Holly’s, but she probably would’ve stayed if he hadn’t offered to help her.”

Apparently Danny had never been through one of Holly’s bird-rants. Arin wasn’t so sure she’d have stayed either way, but it was too late to dwell on it now. He pulled a shirt on top of his makeshift armour, ready to go.

“It’s mostly his dick’s fault,” he corrected, and Dan just laughed.

“Sounds about right.”

Arin bent over the flat of the far desk, slipping his hand between the wood and the wall. Dan watched, mouth open when he pulled out an extra ring of keys.

“You’ve had those the entire time?”

“Yeah,” said Arin, defensive, “I have, and I didn’t want to tell you about it because of situations like this.”

Dan raised his eyebrow unimpressed, “because not having keys definitely stopped Ross and Holly.”

“Well, that’s apparent now!” He threw up his arms, “and how was I supposed to know they’d steal a wheelbarrow?”

“Before dark, nonetheless. Good job, security man.”

“Shut up,” he said, “let’s get going.”

                Arin checked his watch when they slipped past the main entrance, locking the doors behind them, and chucking the keys in the bag. Just before they scaled the gates, Arin had a thought.

“It’s just after one. I think the river’s gonna be crowded, with the noise, so let’s take the road.”

They hadn’t taken the road since they’d found Holly, wanting to keep the impression that their area was deserted. But time was important, not to mention quickly running out.

They jogged as fast as they could without making a raucous. Zombies loitered in groups on the road, with in the dim light, they were easily avoided. Dan axed his way through a particularly large group, but left the majority alone. Arin was much better at fighting than him, and he’d taken Suzy’s sledgehammer, but they’d be in trouble if caught in a swarm. Instead, they focused on moving quickly and quietly, hoping that the zombies would become more spread out at the farm.

They reached the turnoff, both breathless, and ran up the path. The thick trees made it hard for the dead to congregate on the path, but his nerves still felt alight. They hopped the fence, and Dan’s stomach dropped at the sight of the farm. There must’ve been at least a hundred zombies between them and the house, and sneaking around without being noticed would be a serious challenge.

But they were pressed for time. Dan pushed a couple zombies out of his way, and slipped past the rest. Arin had no choice but to bash through the rest, too weighed down. The zombies snarled, following the noise, but by the time they sauntered over to the source, Arin and Danny were gone.

Arin saw two figures pressed up against the chicken coop, and they rushed in, cutting their way through the horde, breaking a wall to find them.

“It’s Arin and Dan!” Ross’ voice was full of relief, and Holly looked like she wanted to cry.

“You guys are idiots!”

Arin ran towards, swinging the bat with inhuman force, sending pieces of skull flying. Dan ran after him, the two cutting a path through the sparse hoard. After making their way through ten, they gathered around the two, where the circle slowly closed.

The bat made a hollow sound when swung, but it was anything but harmless. The monsters flew back, some dazed, some struck down, and the two made their way to the center, up against the wall of the chicken coop.

“You ready to go?” Arin asked, breathless. Ross swung his shovel, hitting a zombie square in the nose. When he pulled back, the thing’s nose was breaking, making blackish blood flow down the mangled face. It was stunned for a minute, but then kept walking towards them, and it took Ross another two blows at full force to kill it.

“Give me a minute,” the woman was concentrating, and Arin spotted her next to the stolen wheelbarrow. She was wrapping chickens in some sort of cloth, while Ross fended them off with the help of Arin and Dan. There were certainly a lot of them, but with three people instead of one, they kept their circle defended, keeping Holly protected.

The chickens were all piled in the wheelbarrow, bundled up like terrified, clucking mummies. She moved to wrap the last one, taking another strip from her bag, capturing the thing, then pressing the wings together in an awkward motion and tying them down.

“I’m done.”

Arin was tiring, from swinging the axe non-stop. He didn’t waste any time.

“Over that way!” he cried, pointing with his baseball bat.

Dan didn’t reply, preferring to push back the corpse in enough time and give it the dull end of the axe.

“Jesus, I hope these birds are worth it.” Arin dug into the bag, tossing the extra weapon Ross’ way.

“They are,” he said, catching the axe and taking a swing, smiling when the blade sank down to the neck. “Man, I wish I’d seen this before I left.”

“Yeah, uh, a shovel was probably the worst choice,” growled Arin, glancing over at Holly, who secured the ridiculous passengers with the rope, making sure they didn’t bounce when the barrow moved.

“I didn’t know it was dull, okay?” He caught Holly’s eye, and she nodded, taking hold of the handles. “We’re ready to move.”

Dan expected Holly to move behind them just as Barry had done. Instead, she charged. She rushed at the horde with her wheelbarrow full of chickens, knocking over half the zombies, and pushing the others out of the way. The other three followed, not willing to give the ones on the ground time to recover. When they were clear, a zombie was struggling on top of the chickens, and she moved fast, scooping the head and heaving it onto the ground with her shovel.

She was a one woman army, and Arin wanted to congratulate her. Instead, they moved over to the fence, encumbered and slow. The horde by the chicken house stumbled over to them, but the real issue was the ones between them and the cow-gate.

“You’re gonna have to break the lock,” said Ross, and Arin nodded. There was no way they could lift it over.

Ross cut what used to be a woman down with a crunch, and he focused on the next, trying to ignore the endless moaning.

Dan swapped weapons with Arin, and with the axe in his hands, he took a running start, coming down on the lock as hard as he could. Luckily, the chain had rusted, and fell onto the dirt in one blow. Arin tugged at the gate, and they booked it back out to the road.

“Where’d you get the fabric, anyways?” he asked, his axe slung over his shoulder. He could hear his heart pumping in his ears, but the horde had thinned, and the desperate breathing of the zombies sounded further and further away.

“Oh. I ripped up my bedsheets,” she responded. “Everything else was either too small or too thick. I didn’t want them to overheat.”

“You are either really dedicated, or fucking insane.”

“I mean,” she did her best to shrug while still steering the wheelbarrow, “probably a little bit of both.”

The problem, they very quickly discovered, with travelling with a wheelbarrow full of snuggly chickens, was that it was slow. Even at night, Arin wanted to get back to the safety of the forest, but the wheel only rolled on concrete. The other thing: when the sun started to come up, the roosters became very loud. Every five minutes, one of them would open their beaks, and announce the morning, which was pretty undignified considering their position.

“Shut the fuck up,” Arin hissed, finally, when another zombie stumbled onto the road, snarling at the noise, “you’re in your pajamas, so go back to sleep.”

He took out his anger on the corpse, bashing in its knees, before breaking the back of its neck with some well-aimed blows. They weren’t making very good time, but they didn’t run into anyone living, just the odd stumbling body, the very last stragglers from the horde. Arin still breathed a huge sigh of relief when they came to their turn off, and took the lead back to the boarding school.

They ran into another problem when they reached the gates, still locked from the inside, and not moving an inch while everyone still slept. The chickens clucked, and one of the roosters let out another piercing yell.

“If he cries out again,” announced Arin, who looked more exhausted than all of them put together, “I’m making soup for breakfast.”

“If you hurt him, I’m cutting your balls off,” came Holly’s reply as she lifted one of the hens into her backpack, and Ross gave a scandalized look at her casual tone.

“Here’s what we do,” she said, fitting another bird into the bag, “we climb the fence, with the chickens, and pass the backpack to the next person, until they’re all on the other side.”

She scaled the fence without another word.

“What do we do with the wheelbarrow?” It was far too heavy to lift, and Arin didn’t particularly feel like running it around the entire wall at four in the morning.

“I’ll come back for it later.” Was the reply Holly gave him, and he was far too tired to argue.

They took turns scaling the chain link, their backpack filled with chickens, then passed it back. By the time all fourteen laid wrapped and terrified on the right side of the fence, the sun had started to peek through the tops of the trees, turning everything a bright gold.

They took as many chickens as they could carry under each arm, and walked back towards the shed, where they’d make the least mess.

Arin had to admit, even if he felt like passing out, and the fact that a chicken was currently trying to peck off a mole on his arm, things had gone pretty smooth. No one’d been injured, they got the chickens, they still had all their supplies, and they were almost home free. Except, Suzy was standing, arms crossed in front of the shed, bags above her cheeks and fire in her eyes.

They all froze, holding their incriminating chickens.

“Hey babe,” Arin greeted, putting one chicken down on the ground, and taking the carton from Dan.

“What you did was dangerous and stupid,” she started.

“Yes.” He had to agree.

“But you have eggs,” she said. He held them out.

“Yes.” This was also true.

“I’ll kick your ass after you make me an omelet,” she decided, and he nodded, leaving the chicken on the ground.

“Sounds perfect,” and they walked off together.

“I hate to cut into breakfast, but where do we put all the chickens?” Ross still held his impressive four chickens, and there was shit running down the side of his shirt.

Arin shrugged, and turned around, chucking his keys back at him. Ross caught them, a little confused.

“I really don’t care just as long as it isn’t the shed,” he said, “but right now your room sounds like the perfect place.”

“I second this movement,” came Suzy’s voice, and the two disappeared into the cafeteria.

“Asshole,” muttered Ross under his breath, and Dan patted him on the back.

“You are the one who snuck out after dark to impress a girl.”

“It wasn’t just to impress a girl!” He could’ve laughed at how easily Ross’ face turned red, but Dan just turned to Holly, who was giggling.

“Did it work?”

Even covered in blood and chicken shit, she smiled wide.

“It did.”

This got Ross’ attention.

“Really?”

“But you have to help me move them first.”

                A third of the eggs were bad, and floated in water when they tested them, but they still had enough to make everyone a scramble.

The smell was heavenly. Arin hadn’t had eggs that weren’t powdered since the breakout had first started. He did the honours of slicing and frying a tomato, while Barry, who was annoyingly well-rested, brewed the coffee. Everyone had trickled in for breakfast by six, including Brian, and even Dan came, lured by the promise of eggs.

“Okay, now that we’re holding chickens hostage in Ross’ room,” Ryan said, as Barry poured him some coffee, “which is right by mine, I should add, can we have the story of what insane logic made you sneak out?”

Ross and Holly recounted their side of the story, and then Arin and Dan jumped in with theirs, the two sides bickering about what ‘actually happened’, but they all came to the same conclusion. They snuck out, killed some zombies, and wrapped up chickens for transport, getting back at sunrise.

“By the way,” Ross said, tucking into his eggs, “the roosters are gonna wake you up at dawn everyday.”

Ryan threw up his hands in exasperation, to the amusement of everyone else.

“What the hell? I want a new room.”

“You chose that room,” said Mark, giggling, “you gotta stick with it.”

“I chose that room with the expectations that you,” he jabbed his spoon in Ross’ direction, “wouldn’t be raising fucking domestic poultry in a dorm.”

Arin and Dan were leaning into each other, howling uncontrollably.

“Oh god, I’m so tired,” Dan moaned, and even though it wasn’t remotely funny, the two launched off into another round of laughter. “I feel like my brain is melting.”

                So after Mark chastised them about team decisions, and they got a good sleep, they shook off the whole ordeal. The others took their time getting over the betrayal, but it was more amusing than distressing. Vernon sulked for a bit, but bounced back, while Suzy just acted unsympathetic to how tired they were (“I took the liberty of giving you lunch duty, so get up.”), while Mark just had an air of general disapproval. Matt and Ryan pretended to be angry, but it was more about not being invited than breaking any rules, and laughed when Ross found eggs in his shoes. He’d moved his bedding to the main hall couch, until Holly took pity on him and forced him into her room, moving his mattress onto her floor.

Brian was a little different. Instead of pouting, or laughing, he just ignored Danny altogether. After breakfast, he went straight to his room, not saying a word. After lunch, he avoided Dan’s eye, his mouth pressed in a thin line. However distressing this was, he could only deal with one thing at a time. After having a quick nap, he focused on preparing lunch, washing dishes. It was well into the afternoon before he had the time and energy to go find the man,

Brian was in the cafeteria, wiping the dust off the tables. He had a spray bottle and cloth in his hands, and cleaned in a rhythmic pattern, making his way through the task focused and silent.

“You know,” said Dan, and he tried to sound angry, but it just came out tired, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

“You don’t know any better,” came Brian’s terse reply, “because I am avoiding you.”

He turned back to his table, spritzing the cleaner on the top and scrubbing the grime away. Dan crossed his arms over his chest, squaring his shoulders.

“Why, exactly, are you avoiding me?”

Brian’s movements stopped, but he kept facing away with his back to Dan. He knew the others were less than happy with him and Arin, for various reasons, but they’d gotten over it. Brian was just being a stubborn child, and it made irritation burn in his chest.

“Because you’re an idiot. You went with Arin, with no backup, and you could’ve been killed.”

“Oh my god,” Dan snapped. He couldn’t believe it, especially coming from someone in their forties, “are you jealous?”

Brian just huffed and went back to wiping down tables, not giving a response.

“I didn’t consider sneaking out with you and then choose Arin, you know,” he said, and Brian went still at his peeved voice, “it just happened.”

“It’s not about that,” said Brian, his cleaning long forgotten, “you didn’t tell anyone where you were going. I woke up and you were gone.”

“We didn’t have time, Bri.”

“You could have died.” He snatched up the towel again, spraying some cleaner onto the next table over, and Dan had to walk along to keep up with him. “So yes, I’m avoiding you, and yes, I’m mad. Because I was scared.”

Guilt replaced the anger in his belly. Dan walked over and embraced him from behind, feeling Brian tense in his arms.

“I’m sorry. You know I’m here.”

He felt the man melt, his muscles relaxing into his touch, but it was gone in a flash, and he pushed away, picking up his bottle and walking away again.

“I’m still mad at you. Piss off and let me have my own space, then you can apologize to me.”

“Okay,” was all Dan could say, so he left.

He gave Brian some time, making sure not to speak to him at dinner, but by the time everyone had gathered for poker, Brian was ready to come up to him, mischief in his eyes.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked, once Brian had made about four separate gay jokes at Dan, sometimes giving him a little kick under the table when he knew Dan was bluffing.

“Nah,” said Brian, shrugging, “my terms have changed. You now have to go all in on this round, and only then will I consider your apology.”

Dan just gave him the finger, and folded his cards.

                They started to build the coop out of the piles of wood out by the shed, as well as a couple broken desks that’d been left in the dusty classrooms.

“It has to be at least twenty feet long, completely closed off. The outdoor part should be closed off to the hip, then we can use mesh, or chain link. Just high enough to keep out foxes.” Holly took the lead, knowing more about chickens than everyone else’s nothing. “The roosters should be kept separate, to stop from fertilising the eggs. I mean, we can have some chickens in there, but the eggs might hatch, so no eating them.”

Brian helped her sketch out a rough blueprint, and they marked out a large area next to the garden. In the end, it only took three days to build, with everyone helping out using the wealth of tools found in the shed. It didn’t look like much, the mixed woods and patchy outdoor area, but it worked, and Holly was happy.

They moved the chickens in, one by one, to Ross’ relief (“I’m still scrubbing chicken shit off of my desk”), but Holly stayed on with Brian, working on some boxes for them to sleep in. They worked hard, pounding nails into the wood, and fixing feeders against the wall. Arin waltzed in, holding a bottle of water, and tossed it to the workers.

“What is this, the chicken hotel?”

Brian didn’t miss a beat, “yeah, and you can bet your ass you can’t afford it.”

“Five star chook hotel,” said Holly, and Brian nodded.

“Hotel and spa.” Brian suggested. She nodded gravely.

“Are you gonna put in baths?” Arin wondered.

“What should we call it?” She had her hands on her hips.

“Do chickens even take baths?” Chickens were still a mystery to Arin.

“Something classy.”

“They’re always smelly, anyways.” Mystery in all ways but taste, at least.

“Like, Beak and Breakfast,” she said, making a rainbow with her hands for added drama.

The laugh Brian let out was bright and sharp.

“Conrad’s Beak and Breakfast,” he corrected.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” she dropped to her knees and made kissing noises at a hen pecking her shoelaces, “we’re gonna have happy chooks.”

Arin knew he was being ignored, but he walked away feeling light. He’d never seen the two of them smile so much.

The new source of eggs was an added bonus, and everyone rushed to the cafeteria in the mornings, eager to fight over the few eggs Holly would bring in after sunrise. They added feeding and mucking out the coops to the rotation of chores, which everyone was happy to complain about.

The chooks, which got tagged and named as soon as possible, eventually figured out it was Holly doing most of the feeding, so they began to follow her around like a little herd of ducklings as she did work around the yard.


	7. The School

Dan was on watch, and it was 3:21 A.M.

It was boring, sure, but he enjoyed the quiet. He enjoyed having some time to himself, and getting something done felt much more satisfying than letting his anxiety keep him lying awake until sunrise.

And he was doing better. Every time he went on a successful mission, he felt shellshocked, but triumphant. He’d faced off against terrifying monsters and was still breathing. Nevermind that sometimes eating was impossible, or that he felt like he was drowning in his thoughts.

So he was doing better. He’d done three months without a single anxiety attack. In times like these, that was practically a miracle.

Dan had to throw away his record when someone burst into the room, making the door slam open and bounce off the wall. He whipped around, feeling vulnerable, terrified at the noise. He didn’t have any weapons with him. If it was a zombie, it’d be difficult. If it was a raider, he’d be dead. Oh, god. He didn’t want to die.

It was neither of those things. It was Brian, looking so excited Dan could almost forgive him for the heart attack.

He clutched his chest, and his anger faded away. He couldn’t breathe. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he stared Brian down, focusing on how he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t going to die. In. Out. Breathe.

Brian put his hands down, coming closer with a puzzled expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He sounded legitimately remorseful, which just made Dan feel worse. His chest still hurt, but he managed to take in air, and steadied himself with both hands on the desk in front of him.

“It’s okay, I’m fine.” He gritted out the words, and the man sat down on the chair next to him. The desk felt cool on his palms.

“I shouldn’t’ve been so loud. Is there anything I can do?”

Dan shook his head. He still felt like his chest was burning, but the fear was fading, and he filled his lungs with air, taking great care not to go too quickly. In. Out. Breathe.

After a few minutes of silence, between Brian hugging his arm, and Dan trying to breathe, he came back to himself

“Do you want to talk about it?” The other man’s usual poking and prodding was gone, and he stared at Dan in a way that made him feel like falling apart. He clutched his fingers in a fist. He thought about the three months he’d been spared from this.

 _Zero months now_ , he thought sourly.

“I’m so frustrated, is all.” Brian kept his eyes on him.

“At me?” Dan shook his head.

“I’m so tired that it never goes away,” he got up, even though his legs felt like jelly, “All our missions outside have gone great. Matt and Ryan are back, and the school finally feels like a family again. I have food, I have things to do,” he gestured to Brian, feeling his words spill out even though he wasn’t sure what he and Brian had, “and I have you. I have every reason to get better, so why haven’t I?”

The silence was thick in the office, and Dan slumped back down on the chair.

“The year before I got here was hell,” he spat out the words, because they were true, “it was absolute hell. But they’re done now.” He looked at Brian, suddenly angry again, “I should be over this. It’s like that year is stuck with me, and I’m so goddamn tired.”

Brian grabbed his hand again, rubbing his thumb over Dan’s knuckles. He felt like shouting, like crying, but found he didn’t have the energy.

“She died a month after the outbreak.”

They hadn’t talked about his wife since the garden. Before now, Brian had stayed away from that topic, and Dan wasn’t keen to push him. But now Brian had a far off glaze in his eyes.

“I wanted to fall apart, you know? Sometimes I still do.

“It’s like a hole in you, and let me tell you from personal experience, when you lose someone, that hole doesn’t heal. I don’t think it ever will.”

There was another pause.

“But you learn to live with it. You accept it and move on, and take it as a part of your day. You know, there isn’t a single day that I don’t think about her.”

“For two years?”

“Two years.”

He looked back at Dan, and the glaze was gone, replaced by his normal piercing blue. Dan gripped his hand, trembling slightly.

“You don’t get over it, but you get better.”

Dan laughed a little, pushing his mouth together when tears threatened to spill again.

“Is there any way to get better faster?” Brian laughed too, just as emptily, and shrugged.

“If I knew, I would have done it by now.”

Dan really did laugh at this, a sudden break from his sadness, and he caught Brian wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“Fair enough, man. Fair enough.”

After being far more emotional than he was usually comfortable with, Dan found Brian sitting beside Holly at breakfast, chatting about exactly how much to feed the chickens. He felt a little glimpse of warmth when Brian used his hands to animate his sentences, his eyes lighting up at each new idea. His reaction probably should have been terrifying to him, but for some reason, it wasn’t. He sat down, half-listening to the conversation, but mostly watching the way

Maybe after the whole zombie fighting thing, emotions became less scary? Or, maybe something was just different about Brian? Maybe both? In any case, he’d have plenty of time to think about it later, but now, he had a question on his mind.

“Is there a reason you burst into the office at three in the morning?”

Brian broke off his conversation with Holly, who had finished her meal anyway. She told him she’d talk later, then got up, leaving them mostly alone. Brian looked a little uncomfortable, a subtle pinch in his eyebrows that Dan had learned to spot. He knew Brian still felt guilty about it, but was genuinely curious. Before sending him into a panic attack, he’d looked excited. Brian seemed to swallow his discomfort and smiled, excitement in his eyes.

“I have to show you something immediately.” Dan was only halfway through his eggs, and his cup sat untouched.

“Can I finish my coffee first?”

“This is way more important than coffee, Daniel, and I’m offended that you would even suggest otherwise.”

“God, fine,” and he chugged the rest of the mug, slamming it down on the table and following Brian out.

They made their way to the music room, and Brian shut the door behind them, going right over to the piano. He lifted the piano bench and reached into the compartment inside.

“You said you had a thing for eighties music?”

Dan scoffed.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“Take a look at this.”

In his hands was a thick copy of _Rockin’ Hits from the Seventies and Eighties_.

“Oh my god.” Dan’s mouth hung open, and Brian just smiled wider.

“It even has _Take On Me_.”

“Oh my god.”

They didn’t leave the music room until dinnertime.

Instead of playing cards that night, Mark called a meeting.

Everyone gathered in the cafeteria, because with the four new people, and with Matt and Ryan back, they didn’t have enough space in the common room anymore.

“I’m calling a two part meeting.”

“What, one vote isn’t enough?” Matt snickered at Ryan’s comment, but Mark went on, unphased.

“Matt and Ryan want to go back out to town to find Jack. We’ll go around in a circle, so say what you feel, then we’ll have a vote.”

Matt was on Mark’s left, so he went first.

“I think it’s immoral to leave someone that we know is alive to fend for themselves.”

“Yeah,” Ryan cut in, “We’ve used this school as a place of refuge, and other people need it.”

“That’s a terrible idea, and we don’t even know if he’s alive,” said Arin, looking anything but happy.

“I think it’s your choice, but it’s a stupid and dangerous choice, and I want no part in it,” said Brian.

“I think I speak for everyone that after what you two went through, we’re all a little tentative to let you out on another mission. I’m worried about those bandits,” Vernon said, and half the circle nodded in agreement.

“Now that you know what to watch out for, I think you’ll have a better chance to find him,” pointed out Suzy, “and we need supplies. If there’s a convenience store, a gas station, or a drugstore in town, we need to check if there’s anything useful.”

“Even if you don’t find him, and I think there’s a big chance you won’t, we still need those supplies,” was Dan’s comment.

“I’m fine with you two going,” said Holly, looking nervous, “as long as I can go, too.” She paused when the room looked at her in shock. “Those murderers might still be out there,” she explained, “and I need to know that justice is served.”

The look of determination on Holly’s face made something flip in Ross’ belly.

“I want to go, too,” he said. “Everyone’s been so hospitable, and going will help me repay in part how you saved my life.”

“You don’t need to,” said Suzy, but Ross didn’t waver.

“I know. I want to. You guys act like it was no big deal, like anyone would have done it, but that’s not true. Most people wouldn’t take someone in they didn’t know, and that means everything to me.”

“If you do end up going,” Barry scratched at his beard, looking solemn, “then you need to go big on defending yourselves. I think you all should train with Suzy and Arin for at least a day, if not more.”

“Great,” said Mark, “now, all in favour of sending a party to town for the supply run and to find Jack?”

Suzy, Matt, Ryan, Holly, Barry, Ross, Dan, and Mark all raised their hands.

“That’s eight out of eleven,” announced Mark, “we’re going.”

As Suzy, Matt, Ryan, Ross, and Holly packed up their things, everyone else picked up the slack of their chores.

Brian and Dan had been left with the chickens and the garden, and while gardening wasn’t new for Brian, neither of them had any clue how to approach the chickens. Holly’s vague and absent minded advice didn’t help, either, and the two of them knew better than to push.

They would leave on the 7th of August, in two day’s time. Arin and Mark set up the training dummies, while Vernon fished out the old MMA pads.

Ross felt better with training. With his trusty axe, he’d proven himself going up against the dead. Human, Arin had pointed out, were a different story, and so the six of them ended up out on the field, working up a sweat.

They also spent the time eating food. They ate a lot of food, knowing that once they started down the road their supplies would start to run out. Vernon picked the zucchini, and laid it out for them. They’d be eating mainly vegetables from the garden, but a little bit of rice from the pantry. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it would keep them going long enough to reach the town.

Holly learned how to properly hold a baseball bat. She learned how to swing, and the proper stance. She and Ross practiced sparring, and how to stay light on your feet. Ryan, who’d played a pretty good batter at Greenway House, showed them the little twist he did with his hips, and how to translate that to the strength in their arms.

If Holly was being honest with herself, she spent more evenings than not locked up in her dorm room, kissing Ross. Some nights, they fell asleep together, and other times, well, they did significantly less sleeping.

It wasn’t something that had even happened gradually, either. One second he was joking about moving the chickens in his room, and the next second, she had him pinned up to the wall, going up on her tiptoes to reach his mouth. They’d never really talked about it, but Holly didn’t mind. The two were happy to act like horny teenagers, and that was enough.

The night before they left for the town, though, they stayed pressed up against one another. The comfort of another body was reassuring, sure, but Holly could tell something else was forming.

“You doing alright?” Ross asked, and she sighed. There was a lot to think about. She could feel the tight ball of anger for what those bandits had done to Sam, and how they’d almost killed Matt and Ryan. She felt anger towards her situation, how it had forced others to steal and kill. Even if it was wrong, from experiencing two years outside and seeing with her own eyes the pure desperation an apocalypse could bring, she knew why people stole. That didn’t make it right, though. Killing Sam was something she’d never get over, and something she’d never forgive his murderers for. But, on some level, she wondered what horrors they’d seen, to drive them to condemn others. Without supplies or weapons, you were dead. Holly had been lucky, finding Arin and Mark on the road. If she hadn’t been swarmed by zombies, she’d’ve died of exposure in a matter of days.

She didn’t know what they’d do if they did catch them. It’s not as if they had a justice system anymore. Something kept her determined, though, as if it might bring her some sort of closure. Nothing would bring Sam back. She knew that, as painful as it was. The hole her brother had left in her life still felt ugly and raw, blinding her with pain in some moments, and leaving a dull ache in others. Would bringing them to justice fix anything? Would she be stuck with this emptiness forever?

“Holly?” Ross’ concerned tone brought her back to reality. She’d spoken to Ross about Sam before, but didn’t feel like discussing it now. Instead, she focused on the second thing on her mind.

“What are we?”

“In terms of relationship?” He sounded confused, so she reached around him (because she’d always preferred to be the big spoon), and took hold of his hand.

“Yeah.”

“Tell me what’s going on.”

It took bravery to tell the truth.

“I feel empty without Sam,” she admitted, “and then out of nowhere I feel everything at once, and I feel like a mess. We fit so well together, but I’m worried.”

“About what?” She appreciated his tone. He wasn’t pushy or irritated, but didn’t bother beating around the bush. His gentle honesty was one of the best parts of him.

“I’m worried I can’t give you what you want,” she felt her throat close up a little, now that she was saying it, “and that I’ll be too distracted to be serious, or anything resembling a good girlfriend.

She could feel Ross thinking in her arms, and it made another ball of anxiety form in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m going to be honest here,” announced Ross. “I really like you. Like, really.” He exaggerated his tone, which just made Holly giggle. “But I just got here, too. Some things just need time, and we don’t need to take things further right away, or ever. I like hanging out with you as a friend, and I’ve enjoyed the sex. Hopefully, you have to. Have you?”

“Yes. I would’ve complained otherwise, believe me.”

Her dry tone just made him grin. He mocked wiping sweat off his forehead, and that just made her laugh again.

“Phew. Good. So we’ll talk about it. If you need to talk, we’ll talk.”

“And if I need space?”

“Then I’ll give you space.” He paused. “Do you need space right now?” Ross started to pull away, and the air felt cold where his back had been. She smacked him lightly on the shoulder and grabbed him.

“No, you goose. Get back here.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, and settled back in. She kissed the back of his neck.

Their conversation continued from there, off into a lighter subject. As her eyelids began to droop, she worried about their mission the day after, but mixed in were feelings of gratitude. She wondered how she got so lucky to find a guy like him.


	8. The Gates

The next morning, Suzy was too busy to be nervous. As soon as she got up, she took a cold shower, knowing that opportunities to bathe would be few and far between outside the gates. She let Arin sleep in, and headed off to breakfast, eating quickly and rushing to the shop.

Matt and Ryan had already arrived, and Holly and Ross met her just outside the building. Holly had blank look to her, and Ross just looked pale.

“Good morning,” greeted Matt, who was probably the cheeriest of them all. She gave him a tiny smile in return.

She showed the older two how to pack their bags, what supplies to bring, and how to store their weapons. They had a lot of items, but bringing them all would slow them down. They needed to move fast and light, so packing small backpacks was key.

She took her sledgehammer anyway, giving everyone else axes or baseball bats. She fought the best with it, and even if it felt hefty in her hands, it would allow them to clear out zombies if they got caught in a horde.

Everyone but her and Ryan had sleeping bags. They’d have two people at all times on watch, so they would switch out who used them anyway.

They took flashlights, water bottles, their armour, a hunting knife, a tarp with some rope, and a lighter. They filled up the rest of the space with food, extra socks, and first aid supplies. Their meals would mostly consist of vegetables, but Suzy had packed a little portable pot if they managed to get a fire going for the rice.

They put on hiking socks, and wore their strongest shoes. Even in the heat, they took pants and long shirts. They didn’t have protection on the spots without armour, but it was better than nothing. They picked out their weapons. Holly and Ryan with baseball bats, Ross and Matt with axes, and Suzy with her dearest sledgehammer.

At 5:00 A.M. it was time to go. Suzy gave her crying husband a monster hug, and tried not to burst into tears herself.

“I love you so much,” she said into his arms.

“Arg!” he sniffed, “you’re making me cry more.” He pulled her in tighter. “I love you, too. Be safe.”

“We will,” promised Ryan. They took turns saying their goodbyes, giving hugs, pats on the back, and promises to come back soon. Finally, Matt looked up at the sky, shifting in place.

“We should get moving.”

The sun would be up soon. Holly put on her baseball cap, while Suzy took a big drink of water.

“You ready?” she asked the group. Matt and Ryan both gave her a thumbs up, impatient at having to wait this long. Holly nodded her head, while Ross shrugged.

“As much as I can be.”

“Good.”

“Get back as soon as you can, or I’ll be angry,” called Vernon.

“Yeah!” cried Mark, “you better listen to him! He’s scary!”

The group gave a wave, then turned. After passing through the gate, they disappeared into the trees.

                Breakfast in their cafeteria passed in silence. Dan had thrown together some sandwiches from the bread Holly had baked and sliced veggies. They didn’t taste the best without mayonnaise or butter, but with everyone eating as mechanically as they did, it didn’t seem to matter.

So the residents of Greenway went on with their day. Brian mopped the floor, Dan wiped down tables, Mark and Vernon went to the river to do laundry, and Barry played his ukulele, because there were enough sandwiches leftover for lunch.

Brian tried to stay in good spirits. He left the floors shiny and clean, and even took it upon himself to clear out the clutter Arin had left in the office. Honestly, he wished they hadn’t left. The little party had left the school feeling all too empty, and the residents quiet. He didn’t like the situation, but he’d long since accepted there was nothing he could do to change it. A couple days after the departure, he found Vernon playing a round of Rummy with Mark. Hearing them laugh and curse when they got a bad hand told him things were looking up. The two offered for him to join them, but he shook his head. Instead, he found his favorite person to pester.

He bumped Dan’s shoulders after he found him putting back kitchen supplies.

“What’s up, Bri?”

He’d taken the habit of calling everyone by little nicknames, which just gave Brian another thing to prod at.

“Help me look in the library,” he said, tugging Dan’s arm in a way that didn’t leave much room for refusal, “I have no goddamn idea how to care for chickens, and while it’s probably not rocket science, I don’t want to die by Holly’s hands. I can tell you with assurance that I can’t take her.”

Dan cooed, and ruffled Brian’s hair. He felt pleased at Dan’s turn in affection. Before, he’d been mind-numbingly easy to embarrass. Now that he was returning the flirting, Brian had an actual challenge in front of him. Bug Dan. His number one priority.

“Aw, you probably say that to all the pretty girls. Oldest trick in the book.”

“So the library is an excuse to show off my brains? Because I can tell you, I don’t need a library for that.”

“No, you use the library as an excuse to get close, maybe show off your sensitive side to impress the ladies, and then you sleep with them.” Dan had pinned back his hair, and while Brian could appreciate the man-bun, he vastly preferred the jew-fro. He plucked the elastic in a smooth motion, releasing the kraken and letting Dan’s hair fall down to his shoulders.

“Well now that my cover’s been blown, I have no need to pretend we’re going to the library. We’ll just do some bangin’ bangin’ in my room.” He grabbed Dan by the arm again, as they walked the corridor. He shook out his hair, and let himself be led. “Follow me, Danny.”

“Bangin’ bangin’ sounds like a band name.”

He pushed open the library door, swinging the keys around his knuckles.

“A bad one. I would not see them at an open air festival that gives away tickets for free.”

“That’s very specific.”

Brian scanned through the books, occasionally wiping dust off a label. With him hard at work, Dan strolled through the next aisle. The library wasn’t extensive, especially for a school, but it had books on science, math, and philosophy. Dan stopped at the criminal sciences, where he could see Brian through the shelving.

“How’s the state of the farming section?”

“Seriously lacking,” replied Brian, dryly, but he handed Dan a picture book through the gap, “but here: you’ll probably need this.”

Dan grabbed it with interest, but then rolled his eyes at the title. He looked up from _How Babies are Made: the story of your biology_ to see Brian’s blank face and laughing eyes.

“Seriously?”

“I thought you needed some guidance,” he said, and moved on to the next section. Dan followed him, and couldn’t seem to stop smiling. Every time he caught Brian’s eyes his belly made a flop, something that hadn’t happened since meeting his ex-girlfriend four years ago.

“I figured that out plenty on my own,” said Dan, a smirk on his face, and Brian just leaned into the gap between them.

“Oh my, you must tell me more, Danny. I want vivid, viscous details.”

That just made him pull away, giggling.

“Ugh, you ruined it with viscous.”

Dan moved to Brian’s aisle when he found the farming section. Among the books on how to transplant apple cuttings, and the proper way to butcher pork, was a thin little book on how chicken farmers raised poultry.

“Score.” Brian raised the book, and Dan took it in his hands, reading the back. He also

“This is perfect. Now we’ll be able to care for the chickens.”

“Danny, the proper term is ‘raise some cocks,” excuse you.”

Dan grinned, and waggled his eyebrows, fully enjoying being a dork.

“You’re raising my cock, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Brian said, serious, stepping closer to Dan, and Dan found himself not wanting to step back, “raising cocks is a perfectly respectable way to make a living.”

He used his superior height and long arms to lock the man in, his hands on either side of Brian’s shoulders. His breath caught, full of the electricity between them, but he didn’t dare move closer yet, content to watch those blue eyes flicker between his nose and mouth.

“Perfectly respectable, huh?”

“Of course.”

In the end, it was Brian who closed the space between them.

He’d expected Brian to kiss hard, to be dominant and demanding and needy. But he just pressed himself closer to Dan, kissing so slow and sweet Dan thought he might cry. He opened his mouth, and the kiss deepened. Brian’s stubble was scratching his face, and when he breathed in he could smell earth and the soap they’d found in the showers. God, it’d been too long since he’d kissed someone, since he’d been touched at all.

Fire was starting to build in Dan’s stomach, but Brian kept the kiss slow, nipping his lower lip every so often. He was teasing, Dan realized, which was frustrating and hilarious all at the same time. He broke their kiss and dove to Brian’s neck, scratching along his scalp lightly while nipping just below his jaw. Brian moaned softly, and when Dan returned to his mouth, he pressed back with a new force, all ideas of restraint lost.

He gripped his shirt, just needing something to anchor himself to.

“Hey, you guys find anything?”

The two broke apart, thankfully hidden by the shelving.

“We did,” Dan picked the two books off the ground, and passed them to Arin once he’d walked over.

Arin took one look at them a grinned, taking note of Dan’s swollen mouth and the state of Brian’s hair. He grabbed the books, tucking them under his arm.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” he said, whistling. “I’m just going to leave you alone in the library in case some people wanted to, I dunno, make out in secret.”

Dan’s cheeks were burning too much to come up with a clever retort.

“It’s not like we have rooms or anything,” he called after them, shutting the door. He and Brian shared a look, and he couldn’t help from laughing.

“Want to go to my room?”

Brian’s eyes darkened, and he nodded.

“Hell, yeah.”

When they got to Dan’s room, there was a box of condoms and a little bottle of lube by the door.

 _You’re welcome!_ Said the note.

“That cocky little shit.”

Dan swore he could hear laughing coming from two rooms over.


	9. The Town

Three days of walking, sunburns, and the occasional zombie later, they spotted a big sign, outlined by green. _Silverton_ , it read, _50 miles._

“Oh, thank god,” cried Ross, with outstretched arms, facing the sign like a deity, “if I have to deal with getting any more shitty blisters, I might go crazy!”

“And if I have to hear you complain about your shitty blisters, I might go crazy,” Ryan joked, and Ross punched him in the arm.

“I’m more frustrated about the mosquitoes,” said Suzy, lifting her arm to display a wicked set of bites.

“Shit,” Holly looked closer, “those look really bad.”

Despite being footsore, hungry, and sunburnt, the chatter throughout their trek remained constant. Holly had splashed Ross when they refilled their water, which then caused Ryan to complain about them flirting. This in turn, only made Suzy point out he and Matt did nothing but flirt, which caused the two to spend the next twenty minutes denying it. Suzy had slipped a pack of cards into her pocket, so whenever they had spare time, which on trek, wasn’t often, they played a game of Go Fish or Rummy.

They’d made good time so far, helped by the mild weather and general lack of dead. The few zombies they had come across had looked old, ones that could barely walk after enduring wind, rain, and sun for so long. They took very little effort to kill. Holly inspected the way its eyes had melted away, revealing concave black holes in place. The knees and elbows had weathered away, revealing bone, and there was no hair left on the body, only disgusting, tattered clothes.

“It’s the new ones we need to worry about, anyway,” Suzy wiped the weight of her hammer with a cloth. Matt nodded. “Older ones look ready to fall apart.”

“That’s how I think this will end,” Matt had taken out a handful of strawberries, half-squashed from being crammed into his pack. “Even a zombie can’t last forever.

“Yeah,” Ryan fired back, and Holly prepared herself for another round of bickering. “Except that people have been dying all throughout the two years. So as long as there’s people to die, there’ll be zombies.”

Matt rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms.

“Way to burst my bubble, fuckwad.”

                They reached Silverton that night, their long, dusty road breaking into gravel, then pavement as the town appeared below a hill. Even without any lights on, the town almost looked normal. In the setting sun, it was all bleached buildings, wide streets, and power lines.

“It looks normal.” Somehow this wasn’t what Holly was expecting. A picturesque village at the foot of a hill looked a little out of place in a zombie apocalypse. As they approached, she noticed more and more wear on the town. Houses had broken windows and half-opened doors, old cars sat, dirty and scratched, and garbage littered the streets. The shops further in the center of town weren’t better. Most windows had been shattered, and a glance inside revealed them as looted and trashed. An old grocery store looked disgusting. Shelves lay on the floor, and empty foil packaging had been thrown around. The group moved on, knowing from experience that other survivors would have taken anything useful. They ran into more zombies, too, and after seeing a jumble of twenty milling around outside a jewelry boutique, they stuck to the alleys.

They found batteries in an old video store, and cleaning supplies in a sketchy Asian restaurant. Matt and Ryan checked inside a dollar store, taking candles, lighters, and looting any gardening sections with seeds or fertilizer. Suzy turned to Holly and Ross, pointing to a no-name household appliance store.

“We’ll check in there. Have your weapons, just in case.”

The two followed her, giving the store a look. Without lights, the store looked almost black, so Ross clicked on his flashlight, taking a look through a row of bath towels.

“Take anything useful for a fire, as well as blankets, and a water bottle if it’s light. Tools are good, too, but not if they’re super heavy.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Holly answered. She looked at some pots on a table, but the dim lighting made her underestimate the distance, and two pans fell, filling the entire store with a deafening bang!

A snarl from inside made her focus on the shape in the dark, and she gripped her axe tightly.

They met the two teenagers outside, fighting off a cluster of three.

It took Ryan complaining, “There’s fucking blood on my new shirt,” for her to realize they had completely changed clothes. Only their shoes were the same. Suzy gave them a grin as she moved in with her hammer, completely crushing

“That’s because you look like a nineties frat boy,” she teased, and Matt made a sassy pose, sporting a sideways baseball cap and baggy jeans.

“We’re NSYNC rejects!” The two posed, but didn’t keep composure for long.

“Did you at least keep your old clothes?” Ross stole Ryan’s hat, turning it backwards and slipping it on.

“Yeah, and we found some clean socks and shirts and stuff,” Matt picked up his backpack. “Not very much, but we used the room we have.”

Suzy gave them a thumb’s up. There were only a couple stores left, which was perfect timing, because Holly saw a throng of dead at the far end of their street. The setting sun sat just above them, and just focusing on the long shadow and golden glow, you could almost pretend it was a regular group of people.

The whole group walked up to the drug store. It stretched across half a block, so even with two broken windows and the registers stolen, it probably had some supplies they could take.

Glass crunched beneath their boots, and Holly took some time to pull out her own torch, not wanting a repeat of what happened in the housing store.

Like the grocery, the entire place was trashed. Garbage, opened food, and merchandise lay in piles between the rows. Movement between the rows indicated a zombie, but when Ross shone his light into its eyes, it didn’t move. The blind thing loitered in the shampoo aisle, and they spotted another one by the pharmacy.

Walking quietly was difficult with so much packaging on the floor. Previous looters had taken everything of value; medication, soap, razors, hand sanitizer, knives, batteries, tents, coats, lanterns, and boxes of matches. The snack aisle had been stripped clean. Ross nudged a pile of chip wrappers with his boot, trying to ignore the fridge section, where spoiled drinks had long since burst from their containers, leaving a disgusting sludge at the bottom of the fridge. The wrappers shifted, and as Holly packed vitamins and the few bits of candy people had left behind, he saw something.

He reached down, and gripped something, beaming a brilliant smile.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, because while they could take care of the zombies, fighting in a closed space was a terrible idea, “someone left behind Pringles!”

They were barbecue flavoured, Ross’ least favorite kind. Regardless, he popped open the seal and dug in, shoving some into his mouth.

“Ew, your hands are probably disgusting.” She reached into the can anyways, and did the same.

“I fucking adore Pringles, man. I missed these.”

Holly took another handful, nodding.

“It’s the little things, Ross, that make life worth living.”

He covered up a snicker.

“Like barbecue flavoured chips?”

“Yes,” she said, wiping the powder off her hands, “like barbecue flavoured chips.”

They met up with Suzy and the boys in the haircare aisle. Alongside with boxes of condoms, Benadryl, and some knock-off pain medication, she’d found tiny travel bottles of shampoo.

As soon as she saw them, she whipped around and grinned, showing off her loot. Ryan had a box cutter, while Matt had an armful of duct-tape rolls in different colours, as well as some rope.

 “You’ll never guess what I got!” She had the trash bag slung over her shoulder, and whatever inside rattled around. Ryan tilted his head.

“Uh, seven vintage Beatles records and three canoes.”

“Close.” She opened the top and stuck her hand in, rummaging around before pulling out a colourful cardboard box. “Look!”

He looked.

“Hair dye?” There was an emo-looking guy on the cover, somehow pulling off purple hair and three facial piercings.

“Hair dye!” She beamed, and pulled out another box, this one blue. “Not many stores have it, but this one had a whole section.

“I agree how exciting hair colour is, but why are you taking it?”

“The obvious choice. That’s what we’ll do when we get back. I’m locking you in a room and forcing dye.”

“That sounds ominous.” He tugged at a shaggy strand. “I do need a haircut.”

“Me too,” said Ross, and Matt stole the tube of chips tucked under his arm, grabbing a big handful and eating them in one mouthful. Ross glared at him, but before he had the chance to snatch it back, the can was passed to Ryan, who stole some as well. Holly looked at the various colour options.

“You want to dye your hair?”

Suzy sighed.

“I haven’t dyed it in so long, which is why this’ll be fun. It’ll be just like my goth phase in high school.”

This time Ross butted in, remembering the dark home-made eyeliner and the roses and skulls tattooed onto her arms.

“Suzy, I don’t think that ended in high school.”

Suzy laughed, and stole her own portion of the chips. “Too true, man.”

                A horde of fifty had made its way to the drugstore by the time they’d collected everything they could carry. The garbage bags were less than sneaky, but they managed to cut their way to another back alley, leaving the zombies to stumble after them.

“So now what do we do?”

Matt’s question hung in the air. They were tired, encumbered, and had a pack of zombies cutting off their escape behind them. They stepped onto the road, and Suzy immediately took down a shuffler. Holly brought out her axe, and her palms felt slippery against the handle.

The only thing left to do was find the raiders. She felt her anger build up just thinking about them, but beneath all that was fear. What would she do when she found them? What could she do? Something in her needed to see it through. She almost felt sick with apprehension.

Ryan pointed at something across the street.

“I think we should check out that fire?”

Holly followed his line of sight, and sure enough, on the roof of a squat hair salon, was a fire.

“Be careful,” Suzy warned, “and keep your weapons with you. It might be Jack, but it might be someone else.”

Holly nodded, swallowed, and kept her grip steady.

Ryan snuck over first, circling the building before motioning for them to follow. Silent, they pressed up against the alley side, where a pile of wood gave them just enough height to jump up to the fire escape. He lifted Matt up first, creating a step with his hands. Matt stayed low, and gave the thumbs up, so Ryan cupped his hands again. Holly gripped the bars of the escape, using Ryan’s lift to push herself up, and once she’d managed to lay flat on the metal (because damn, these packs were heavy), Ross was coming up after her.

They crept closer to the roof. A shape shifted before the fire, but before she could grab at her weapon, she noticed the smell of meat, as well as the controlled way the person poked at the fire.

They hadn’t seen them, and considering they’d come across nothing but the dead so far, they very well could be one of the murderers.

Holly’s belly twisted, her heart starting to pound. She slid her axe from the sheath at her belt.

“It’s him,” came Matt’s surprised voice, and for a second Holly thought he meant the people who’d robbed them, but he sounded excited, and jogged up to the fire. “It’s Jack!”

Now, closer up to the man, she didn’t recognize him. He was a tall man, not as skinny as Dan, but not heavy like Arin. When Jack spotted Ryan, he turned, his face unbelieving.

“Ryan!” He called out, and Matt tackled him with a hug, barely avoiding tipping the two into the fire. “Matt!”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d held in. Holly felt her whole body relax, but her stomach sank a little, disappointed.

“How you holding up, buddy?” Ryan seemed to notice the others staring, and he pulled himself from the man’s arms, standing in an awkward fashion and pointing over to Suzy, Holly, and Ross.

“I’ve been better,” he admitted, then glanced at the new three, his mouth twitching, “there’s more of you.”

“Don’t worry,” Ryan put his hands up, giving the guy a smile, “they’re with us, and they brought food!”

“That’s bloody fantastic,” he replied, “because I have rabbits.”

“How’d you find rabbits?” Suzy shook his hand, sitting cross legged on the concrete by the fire. Jack had overturned an old shopping cart, using the grate as a makeshift grill, and the rabbits lay skinned and cleaned, blackening under the fire. He turned one over with a stick, then sat down beside her, moving a bloodied field hockey stick out of his way.

“I trapped them. They’re everywhere in the forest, and canned beans gets tiring, you know?”

Matt had begun to unpack his things, and smiled as Jack’s eyes grew wide at the sight of a zucchini.

“Where’d you get that?” He took the veggie, turning it over in his hands. “I can’t even remember the last time I ate something green.”

“We have a garden. It was grown there.” Holly took out her unused knife, and sliced it into even pieces. It smelled delicious when on the grill with the rabbits, but she kept one piece raw and passed it to Jack.

He moaned when he took a bite.

“Jesus Christ, am I glad you found me.”

“We’re in the same boat as you,” Suzy joked, “we haven’t had meat in months.”

Suzy looked over the side, eyeing the way the zombies bumbled around in the alley. The pile of wood looked miles away from where she stood.

“I’m a little worried how we’re gonna get down,” she said to Ross and Matt, who stood over the fire, warming their hands. The rabbit smelled delicious, but she didn’t want to eat until she knew they could escape the roof. Outside the gates, you couldn’t let yourself get comfortable.

Jack shrugged.

“I just jump. It’s a killer on the knees, but it works.”

“Are you going to be fine eating the rabbit?”

Holly pressed her lips together.

“No, but I’ll deal with it.”

“You a vegetarian?” Jack asked, turning the meat over on the shopping cart.

“I was, before.”

“Just eat the zucchini,” he said, “I don’t think we’re skinny on supplies. It’s not good to eat rabbit a lot anyway.”

Ross nodded, and he seemed to be in much better spirits with a fire by his side and food on the way.

“Yeah, I heard about that. It’s because they’re so lean or something.”

“Yeah. They’re good for a while, but you can’t rely on them.”

They began to eat their meal, watching embers float upwards, burning out high above them. Half-starving, they focused on devouring the rabbits, and bickering over the veggies. A satisfied quiet fell over them, only broken by the occasional crackle of flame.

“Whatever happened to the thieves that robber you?” Holly couldn’t help but ask. They’d passed out the food, and even though it was delicious, she couldn’t bear the silence any longer. She felt restless staying in one place, and that little flame in her stomach seemed to burn her from the insides out.

Jack swallowed his mouthful of meat, and leaned his hands on each knee.

“When the horde attacked, it looked bleak for everyone. I’m surprised I survived, and I wasn’t even in the thick of it. Ryan and Matt survived, so they could’ve as well, but,’ He hesitated, “it was really bad. I don’t think they made it.”

Holly nodded, and went back to picking at her grilled zucchini.

 

                When Ross woke the next morning, their entire building had a cloud of hungry dead around it. Looking at the street down a couple blocks, there was a clearing, but

He looked down at the sidewalk, and then to Suzy. She’d pressed her lips together, and her tired eyes met his once she saw the size of the horde.

“There’s always something,” she said, and just by her voice he could tell she desperately needed a cup of coffee, “every mission, something always goes wrong.”

Holly rubbed her eyes, slipping out of the sleeping bag. The sun had risen, but sleeping on concrete gave her a chill. She bunched her hands together, and looked over the edge.

“How the hell are we going to get out now?” The monsters were so tight-packed, and more passed through at the sides of the alleyways, joining the horde.

Jack, who’d had last watch, fidgeted by the remains of the fire. He unzipped his bag, rummaging through it for something at the bottom. By the time Ross turned to him, he’d pulled out a package of something.

“Are those fireworks?” He asked, and wondered where he’d possibly found them. Suzy stepped forwards, her eyes glimmering.

“These are perfect,” she grabbed the package, where a sketchy label, half falling off, read, _Thunder-Wolf Fireworks._

“Do you think those will work?” He asked Suzy. She not only nodded, but smiled her wicked smile, showing off canines.

“Only one way to find out,” she said, and they had a plan.

 

For the group left behind, and especially Arin, the first week was fine. He occupied himself with chores and games and drawing. He found his anxiety and managed it, pouring it into his art when it felt overwhelming. Arin joked around with Vernon, and teased Dan and Brian, and challenged Mark to poker games. He couldn’t stop himself from worrying, but that was to be expected.

The second week wasn’t fine, because now he could start worrying Suzy and the others would never come back. His sleep got worse, and he spent the nights working through his sketchbooks, preferring insomnia over nightmares. His drawing improved, but his spirits were flagging, and bags started to form under his eyes. His usual posture became hunched, and every muscle in his body felt tight and sore. More and more, he thought about his wife, and the zombies, and the raiders, and anxiety threatened to swallow him. He spent his spare time agonizing over the details.

So, he threw himself into training, chores, and board games. Mark gave him concerned glances, and Vernon acted a little too cheery and upbeat around him, probably to do his best to distract him.

It wasn’t until he fell asleep on watch, his face smashed into an ink drawing of Megaman that Barry decided to take action.

He found Arin in the office, and when he awoke with a start, the paper he’d been drooling on came with him. Barry probably would have found the imprint of blue ink on Arin’s face if his health wasn’t so dire. Now, he just offered the man a hand, and led him to the rooms.

Arin followed, feeling his face turn red. So far, no one had mentioned his less-than-okay state, opting for more indirect forms of support. Barry just led him down the hallway, turning to Arin just outside his dorm room.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

If Arin started talking about zombies, and raiders, and Suzy, and Matt, and Ryan, and Holly and Ross, he’d never be able to stop. Fears would just circle around in his mind, and it would be awful. So, he shook his head, trying his hardest to not look like a total disaster.

“Not really.”

Barry shrugged, unsurprised, and pushed the door. They both stepped inside.

“I get it. Come here.”

He gestured to the bed, and Arin raised an eyebrow, feeling a little cheap. Barry scratched his beard, and rolled his eyes.

“Not like that. You’re obviously having trouble sleeping, so come sleep with me tonight, and see if that helps. If not,” he pulled off his flannel, folding it up on the desk, leaving his sweatpants on, “then we’ll try something different. You’re not taking care of yourself, and that needs to change.”

Barry said it so plainly, so bluntly. Arin rubbed the back of his neck, feeling more than vulnerable.

“I’ve been drawing,” he mumbled, and Barry just crossed his arms, obviously looking at the ink stains on his cheek.

“Yeah, I don’t think drawing counts as sleep in any universe.” The shorter man pulled off his shoes, and then pointed to the other side of the queen. There was no room for argument in his tone, and Arin couldn’t find it in himself to argue.

Arin felt awkward climbing into bed, but he shook it off, chuckling as Barry folded up his glasses on the bedside-table.

“If someone told me this morning I’d be in bed with a bear, I’d’ve laughed at them.”

Barry just rolled over, taking half his covers with him.

“Fuck you, man. If anything, I’m an otter.”

“Thanks, Bar,” he said into the dark, already feeling drowsy.

“No prob, man,” was the only reply.

The weight and warmth of another person, especially someone Arin trusted, made something untwist in his chest. He still felt unbearable when he thought about Suzy, but for the first time in three days, he drifted off easily into sleep.

 

                The plan laid out, all they needed was a runner to light the fuse. After a couple minutes of bickering, Suzy laid her hammer on the ground, leaning her weight on the handle.

“Okay: our runner has to be fast, with a light weapon, who’s able to keep their cool.”

Jack then pointed to Ross.

“You’re the best one for the job.”

Just hearing the moans from below their building gave him hives, not to mention the smell.

“Me? Why me?

“You’re small,” he said, and passed it to Ross, “you can do it.”

Ross felt his face turn red, gripping the package.

“I’m not that small,” he grumbled, but he had to admit that he did fit the job description. He was quiet and fast, and it was exactly what they needed. This didn’t, however, mean that Ross had any desire to go.

“You also kept you head those two times at the farm,” she pointed out, and even if he felt a little boost of confidence, he didn’t move. He had training under his belt, and he felt confident in his abilities. However, the reality of death felt paralysing.

Holly gripped his free hand, and her fingers felt warm and soft. She gave him a squeeze, and he did the same.

“You can do this, Ross,” she said, giving him a nod. Her eyes looked serious, but he felt comforted all the same. He looked at the others, who all tried their best to look encouraging.

“I believe in you, man,” said Matt, and Ryan gave him a pat on the back.

“Work that skinny ass,” said Ryan, and slapped him on the butt for good measure. He sighed. Looking at the horde, they didn’t have any other choice.

“Fine. I can do this.” He said out loud, more for himself than anyone else. Finally, he turned to Suzy, who nodded.

“You can do this, Ross. In and out, real quick.” She dug around in her bag, pulling out a box of matches they’d found in the old dollar store. He gripped it in his hands.

“Thanks.”

“Now, does everyone know the plan?”

Ryan nodded, “we wait for Ross to light the crackers, and look for an opening.”

“Then we make a break for it, and meet Ross at the town sign if we don’t see him.”

She smiled, and pulled out her hammer.

“Great! You got it! One more thing, though: the horde’s gonna be thick, so stay behind me so I can forge a path.”

Jack brandished his hockey stick.

“I’ve never fought alongside you, Suzy,” he began, and ran a trembling hand through his hair, “but looking at the way you hold that thing, I feel safer already.”

 “We can do this!” Cried Holly, “and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

“Aw, man!” Matt was nervous, but he chuckled anyway, trying to find humour in the situation, “now you jinxed it! Firecracker man is totally going to get chomped now.”

Ross flicked his forehead.

“Not helping, dude.”

He was ready, though. The fear burning a hole in his stomach had settled into focus. He felt adrenaline pumping through his veins, and he gave a little wave to the others.

“Meet you at the sign.” Suzy gave him a thumb’s up.

“Good luck.”

He jumped. Time seemed to slow down in the air, but he didn’t let himself lose focus. His boots hit the ledge of the building across from the alley, and the momentum from the jump pushed him off. He stumbled, but then looked back at his group. They cheered, and he gave them a smile. He could do this.

The next building was further, and as much as he could rely on the heat burning through him, he didn’t want to risk it. Instead, he drug a plank of wood over. His muscles strained, but he managed to find the other side, creating a thin, makeshift bridge. Ross ignored the splinted in his palm. The plank wobbled when he put his weight on it, but held strong. It looked old, but strong. He took a deep breath and started his walk across.

He didn’t look down. The scent of rotten flesh wafted up towards him, but he forced to keep his gaze fixed ahead,

He couldn’t light and drop the thing, and risk it going out. He saw a dumpster across the way, empty except for an old tire. Ross chucked a brick from the roof, watching it sail through the air. It hit the lid, then bounced inside, making the dumpster slam shut. Twenty-so undead heads whipped around, and forty-so feet started shuffling towards the noise.

The fall hurt his knees, but for the moment, he had enough space to work. He shifted around the dead, going closer

He could sneak around, specialising in slipping through narrow passages without making a sound. He used that talent now. The zombies moaned, and an icy finger ran down his spine.

Every fiber in his body screamed to get away, but he ignored them. He forced himself to breathe through his mouth, to keep the rotten, ugly smell from his nose, but he just ended up tasting it. One of the dead shambled towards him, making his entire body freeze up, but he shifted to the side and let it walk past him. He breathed. He could do this.

He fumbled with the matches, almost dropping one, and squinting to see where the patch was on the box. Zombies milled around, and without a weapon in his hands he felt vulnerable. He didn’t let himself panic. Taking note of where the dead stood, and the best route to take, he looked down to his task.

There was a growl at the striking of the match, and he realized how pressed in he was. He stepped back, flicking another match. It burst into flame, hissing, and he took the device, pressing the flame to the fuse. All the zombies in the alley were now interested, and if he didn’t get out now, he’d run the risk of getting swarmed. He stepped to the side, keeping his back to the wall, and let the zombies follow him. The fuse caught, and he let it drop to the ground.

He ran, weaving his way through the bodies. Some turned and snarled when they heard his footsteps, but then the firecrackers started to pop, and the huge noise woke them. He heard a symphony of rugged breaths, angry snarls, and desperate moans as the horde closed in on the sound. More and more fireworks went off, some whistling, and some exploding with deafening bangs. He resisted the urge to look back, keeping his eyes on the clusters of zombies brought by the noise. Some started to run, tripping over one another and getting forced to a crawl. Ross kept running. He saw Suzy’s face peek around a building, and he headed for it, avoiding the zombies that zeroed in on the fire.

He turned the corner, chest burning from his sprint, and Ryan passed his backpack, helping him slip in on. Holly handed him his trusty axe, and they were ready to go.

They ran, weapons brandished. It was now or never. Ross cut down a zombie with the axe Jack had thrown him, while Suzy crushed skulls beneath her hammer. The herd had thinned thanks to the distraction, but their window to escape was slim. Their backpacks full of supplies made them slow, and they’d all agreed that if things got dire, the better option was to leave your supplies and run, rather than get caught dead with it.

He saw Holly dip under a zombie’s reach, giving her enough time to cut through the stomach, baring entrails. It fell, and she swung at another one, with a determination that almost chilled. He turned back to his own foe, whose outstretched hand and unseeing eyes had its sights set on Suzy. He gave it a crack on the back of the neck, and by the time his focus returned to her, three more dead had fallen.

 _Yeah_ , he thought sheepishly, _I think she can handle herself._

With the dead rushing to the center of the city, their run-ins with zombies became rarer. Their pace slowed to a jog as they passed the residential area. Ross saw Holly running ahead of him, and noticed the way she would stop to look inside the windows of the houses. She looked exhausted, doing twice the legwork. He wanted to tell her to save her energy, but when she did a double take outside someone’s overgrown lawn, she found what she’d been looking for. She walked closer to the window, and the two boys followed her, curious. Ross watched from the sidewalk, and called out to Jack and Suzy, far ahead of them.

“Stop! Holly found something.”

Holly was right up against the window now, and put her hands where the missing glass had once stood. There was a noise from the house, and she drew her hand back at once. Matt, who was beside her, gasped, and put up his bat.

“Fuck.”

“Ugh,” Ryan plugged his nose, but stayed beside Matt, getting a look. He turned, shaking his head.

“Jesus.”

Ross crouched behind them, peering through the window, and he felt Suzy pressed up against his back, watching out for movement between the buildings.

The smell was fresh, indicating they’d only fallen in the last couple days. Holly could see one of the siblings, pale-faced and stumbling, and the horrendous gaping wound at the crook of her neck. Gore had crusted to the chest. The other one, still wearing a Viper’s jersey, was entirely clean, save for dried blood around the mouth, oozing between the teeth. The third bandit was gone.

“Let’s go,” said Ross. He didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary.

“No,” Holly brandished her axe.

She turned when Matt put a hand on her shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving them a little mercy,” she replied, and jumped onto the sill to push herself inside. The two former thieves growled, sensing something alive in their presence. A snarl was cut short, followed by another, and after a second, she climbed back through the window. Swinging her legs over the ledge, Ross offered help, and he couldn’t help feel nervous at the look of fire in her eyes.

She caught Ross’ hand, and he felt her small fingers give him a reassuring squeeze. She obviously took note of the concern, because she tilted her head to the side, the anger gone.

“I’ll be okay. It’s over.” Her voice sounded a little hollow, and Ross had a difficult time deciding whether that was actually better.

“Good,” Ryan butted in, pointing a thumb westward, “because it’s probably best to leave now.”

They stopped on the outskirts of town, and the horde thinned into a couple stragglers, easily avoided by Ross and the others. They climbed road on the hill, arms up to block the rising sun. Ross ignored the burn in his legs; they were all tired, and the most important thing was getting to safety, not rest. Once onto the flat concrete, Suzy broke into a jog, and the group followed, barely able to keep up.

Suzy let them rest under a huge birch, the view of the road visible through the trees. She swallowed the last of her water. Sweat had made her shirt plaster to her skin, and the armour probably smelled disgusting. She leaned against the trunk, and breathed hard.

“What do we do now?” Jack still hadn’t caught his breath, but he was standing, unlike Ryan. He shook off his bag as soon as they’d stopped, opting to lie on the ground, panting.

“There’s nothing left to do,” Matt said, between swallows of water, “we need to head home now.”

“All in favour of bringing Jack home with us,” called Suzy.

The vote was a sweaty, unanimous yes.

“You sure do know how to make a guy feel welcome,” he smiled.

                With the horde mostly gone, and the threat of raiders partially diminished, Matt, Ryan, Holly, Ross, Suzy, and Jack made good time on the road home. They stopped at the river to refill their water, and even cooked their rice for dinner, a celebration of their find. The cans of food remained un-opened, but they had three openers in the kitchen, and for once their pantry would look a lot less empty.

In the end, it took them three days to walk home. By the time they broke through the bushy forest, and got a view of the gates, Holly had had enough adventure. Her full-bodied sunburn was peeling, her hips were sore from walking, and the permanent headache from too much stress and too little sleep had finally started to get to her. When Ryan pulled a set of keys from his pocket, the lock sliding out of place sounded less like a metal _clunk_ , and more like choirs from heaven.

Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic. But she did have a full body sunburn. If anything, she deserved to be a little dramatic.

Brian came running out to meet them once he spotted the group from the office. He almost tripped on the grass in his haste, and smiled at their group.

“Shit,” he stopped once he got up to them, “I need to tell everyone you’re home.” He gave an eye to Suzy, “your husband’s been an old mope so you need to see him as soon as possible.”

“We have someone new, though,” Matt pointed out, and Brian finally found Jack, just as dirty and tired as the rest of them. His eyebrows rose to his hairline, impressed.

“You’re actually alive, holy shit.”

“Hi,” he said, giving him an awkward wave, “I’m Jack Walsh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to my dad, summer is a bad time to trap rabbits. But I’m already panicking trying to finish this, so in it goes. AAAA


	10. The Salon

Settling in went quickly, everyone knowing their places. The returned group had a huge reunion hug with the group left behind, and once again, Mark insisted on making a big feast of pancakes. They all sat around the table, stuffing their faces, regaling stories, and making jokes until Ross announced he needed a shower and a week of sleep. The rest of the travellers nodded, and Suzy mumbled something about washing her clothes. They dropped their supplies in the main hall, and headed upstairs.

Arin caught Holly before she left with the others.

He checked over his shoulder, wanting privacy. His whole being radiated nerves, like if he said the wrong thing she’d run away. His presumption irritated her, but she let him speak.

“I know things have been hard for you,” he began, and looked nervous enough to bolt, “and you don’t have to talk to me. You always know there’s Suzy, and Dan, and while Brian seems like an asshole he really-”

“Arin,” she said, and he snapped back to reality.

“Right. Did you find what you wanted? Justice?”

She thought about the question.

“I don’t think so. I don’t think there’s any sense of fairness nowadays.” She swallowed, running her mind through the journey, “but I don’t feel angry anymore,” she laughed, tucking a piece of filthy hair behind her ear, “I still feel sad, yeah, but I think I’m over the anger.”

“That’s great to hear, man.” He awkwardly punched her in the shoulder, so she responded by crushing him with a hug. He crushed her back, and they both leaned into the embrace.

“Yeah, well, I’m happy about it, too.”

“Now go shower,” he said, breaking the moment, “you smell really bad.”

“You really are a charmer,” she smiled, despite the dryness of her tone.

Finding their own routines turned out easier than they thought. Jack was a flexible guy, and he enjoyed having something to do, smiling whenever Arin asked him to mend a fence, or when Holly needed help mucking out the coop.

He was shit in the kitchen, but good with his hands, and chopped wood with Barry in the afternoons. He got along with Ross, and argued with Brian whether Billy Joel was a good songwriter or not.

Dan was practically in Brian’s lap with his book, ignoring the two go at it.

“You can’t deny he has good lyrics. I fucking loved Piano man.” Brian just shook his hands, as if hearing this physically pained him.

“He’s so fucking arrogant in his writing.”

Jack got a sly look in his eyes.

“You’d know something about that, wouldn’t you?”

Dan looked up briefly to laugh, open mouthed at Brian.

“Damn. He’s got you there.”

So, yeah. Jack fitted right in.

On the third night of being back, they decided to dye their hair

“Let me dye your hair,” she tugged on his hand, but Dan booked it, calling down the hallway as he disappeared.

“Oh, no. My hair is enough of a nightmare without bleaching it to straw.”

“You could just do the tips,” called Arin, who’d sat himself on the counter with a handful of chopped carrots. “Then it won’t be so bad.”

“Aren’t you going to dye your hair?” she eyed her spouse, who just shrugged, leaning back against the mirror.

“I’m thinking about it.”

“So you want pink, did you say?” she turned back to Holly, scanning over the line of bottles on the side of the sink. Holly nodded, and she brought out the bleach, pulling on gloves so her hands wouldn’t burn.

Suzy brushed bleach into her hair in short, practiced strokes, wetting all the hair, then wrapping it up in plastic wrap.

“It’s burning my scalp,” she complained, but the other woman only hummed and kept going.

“It does that. It’s not too much longer anyway.”

Ryan, who held his bottle of blue dye halfway to his hair, now blond, stopped.

“Mine wasn’t that short. Why’d I have to keep the bleach on for so long?”

“Beauty is pain, Ryan” replied Matt, who was mixing green and red like some sort of mad scientist, “you gotta feel the burn.”

“Easy for you to say,” said Holly, “your hair is lighter than everyone else’s.”

“Also, chill with the colours, Bill Nye. You’re gonna blow this whole place up.”

Matt just grinned, pleased with his work. He’d added a bit of blue for good measure, and then leaned back.

“You’re just jealous at how amazing my rainbow hair is gonna look.”

After bickering, she washed Holly’s hair in the sink, then sent Matt to wash out the extra colouring.

“Rinse it off, and see what it looks like.”

“Yes, Mistress Fashion,” he grinned, pulling back the curtain. Suzy just laughed and took a bottle of pink, using a new pair of gloves to start on the woman’s hair again.

Unsurprisingly, Matt’s hair turned out wild. As soon as he stepped out Ryan burst out laughing, almost falling off his space by the sink.

“Oh my god,” he howled, “you look like a push pop!”

Arin turned at the commotion, and joined in.

“He does. Oh man, Matt. Don’t let any fourth graders with pocket change near you.”

Ryan crossed his arms and puffed out his chest.

“Fuck you guys. I look fabulous.” He stuck one hip out and posed, “see? Fabulous.”

Holly found a compromise, as she stepped into the shower,“a fabulous push pop.”

Her short hair didn’t take long to dry, and her eyes lit up when she saw how it had turned out.

“You look like that girl in Animal Crossing,” said Arin, who’d made his way through half of the carrots, but hadn’t moved to do anything more to his hair.

“That was my plan.”

After Holly did a twirl in front of the mirror, though, he jumped up, clapping his hands together.

“That’s it. I want pink hair, too.”

“Yes!” Suzy  wasted no time on him, pouncing like a wild animal. By the end of it, he had an entire head of fuscia hair, save for one strand of blonde on his side. He was looking at it in the mirror when Vernon popped his head in to join them.

Mark dyed his hair red, while Brian did his Banana yellow. Jack did green, living up the stereotype with pride.

“Do you want a dye job?” Holly called out to Ross, when he passed the bathroom.

“No, but I’d appreciate not looking like a scene boy from 2004.”

Suzy’s eyes glimmered, and she grabbed the scissors, smacking Matt’s arm to get him out of the chair. “Sit down.”

Suzy had the longest hair, so hers took the longest. She bleached the majority of it, silently mourning the end of silkiness and easy brushing. Then, she dyed the whole thing purple, keeping a single strand out like Arin had done.

                All their bedsheets and towels became tie-dye projects, and the colours refused to come out, regardless how long they spent scrubbing them.

It was absolutely worth it. Everytime Suzy caught her reflection in the window, or occasional mirror, she couldn’t help her face breaking into a full smile. She felt like a witch, and wished she had a hair curler, to complete the look. With her home-made winged liner and old palette she’d almost worked her way through, she felt beautiful.

The others liked their hair, too. Arin sang when he brushed his hair in the morning, and she caught Mark staring at his reflection of a trophy case to make sure it parted the right way. Dan asked her how to make her own eyeliner, and started wearing it every so often. Holly started to borrow some of Suzy’s dresses. Barry let Arin paint his nails, and immediately ruined them when he went back to practicing.

“I thought they were done!” he cowered behind his ukelele when Arin smacked him with a newspaper.

“You have to wait to let them dry!” said Arin, “You ruined my salon-level artistry!”

“I’m sorry,” he gestured to Arin’s hands, “Yours look pretty good, though.”

Arin admired them, even if they’d get wrecked once he started chopping wood or fixing the chicken coop.

How long had it been since they could primp and preen and care about their appearance? Suzy loved clothes, and makeup, and hair, but she wasn’t the only one who felt like a new person after a nice bath, or a good haircut. Luxuries like cosmetics and bath bombs had fallen through the cracks, but with her new hair, she got that same feeling. Taking care of yourself felt good. Who would’ve guessed? How long had people gone without that feeling?

Too damn long, she knew. She kept the rest of the bleach and dye tucked away, for when they might need it again. Who knew when the next rainy day would come along. She couldn’t stop it, that’s for sure, but in her own small way, she was ready.

That night, they played a couple games of slapjack.

The whole room felt lighter than the months before it. Based on how things were going, they were likely to improve in the next month, and the month after that, and the month after that.

Holly and Ross kept things slow. Arin and Barry still had nightmares, and Dan still had panic attacks. Brain mourned daily. Mark kept them voting, while Jack taught them how to trap rabbits and clean fish caught in the river. Matt kept gardening, and Barry played his ukulele for everyone when they got to build a campfire. Suzy made home-made cosmetics and Vernon took them out to pick berries. Ryan made bad jokes with Arin, and Dan and Brian bickered like an old married couple.

Things weren’t always great, and even as they ate the food from the garden, and lazed in the sun, they worried about getting better.

Every month had them healing.

It was slow, and it was painful, but they were a family. Together, they’d survive.


End file.
